Wasteland
by gossipdan
Summary: Westchester: your quintessential town. A haven and utopia for those born lucky enough to live there. Westchester, with it's historic homes and perfectly trimmed hedges, where high school rivalries are saved for the field and the Country Club is the place to be seen. The American Dream personified...well, at least until the night of August 11th changed everything.
1. demons

Disclaimer: _The Clique_ is property of Lisi Harrison, as are all the characters mentioned.  
Warning: Language, substance use, dark themes and suggestive dialogue.

Hope you enjoy :)

* * *

 _demons._

The Westchester Windmill was a small enough liquor store that Massie could feel the eyes of the cashier on her as she walked through the aisles. She was in the small medicine section that the Windmill had. It took up only a strip of the short aisle. She looked at the allergy medication, sniffling. She didn't have much of a choice, there was only one option. Sighing, she grabbed it and headed toward the front of the store.

"Will that be all?" The man asked in a monotone. She remembered in middle school that a lot of people called him Loser Larry. He smelled like bacon and was always frowning. She never understood where the 'loser' came from but there weren't a lot of insults that started with the letter L, and children were unnecessarily cruel.

"Yeah," she answered, setting down a carton of orange juice. The Windmill was a much closer drive than the pharmacy and she frequented it probably more than most people in Westchester.

Her eyes wandered as he scanned her items. Outside the night was creeping up on them. The sunset was fading and an inky night seemed to be upon the small town. Summer nights in New York were better than the days. It wouldn't be nearly as humid which she was more than thankful for.

After paying Larry, she offered him a small smile and went out into the dingy parking lot of the Windmill. It had a quaint charm to it, regardless of the fact it was the only thing in Westchester that looked like it hadn't been remodeled in over five decades. Maybe that's why she liked it.

Lost in her own thoughts she hadn't noticed another car in the lot. A black Audi, the windows tinted blacker than regulation so curious eyes could not wander. The engine was revving and as she walked past it, the lights blared. She yelped, almost dropping her brown bag filled with powdered donuts, juice and her medicine. She was planning to watch a movie.

The next thing she heard was laughter and raising her palm to cover the lights, she noticed the car immediately.

"No." She said confidently in the car's general direction before proceeding forward. She did not look back at it. She didn't have time for this utter foolishness.

"Oh, come on," the car doors opened, the engine lowering to a hum before being silenced completely. One door slammed shut. "Mass. _Massie_!"

She was at her car now and unlocked it, trying her best at ignoring the approaching footsteps. She dumped the bag on the passenger's seat as she slid into the driver's side. She placed her key in the ignition before she was even fully in the car.

"Seriously, wait!" She started to buckle her seatbelt but before she could shut the door, someone placed their foot forward, pulling back the door with their leg.

"Derrick," She was not looking at him as she said this, but directly at her steering wheel. Eye contact was not preferred. "I need you to leave me alone."

Before he could respond, someone got into her passenger's seat.

"Oh, powdered donuts? You do get the good stuff." Cameron Fisher wagged his eyebrows at her, rifling through the contents of her new purchase. "Where's the chocolate? You always buy chocolate."

"What do you guys want?"

"Material items are so meaningless, I don't really 'want' anything," Cam said, mouth full of donut.

Massie rolled her eyes and looked up at Derrick. The street light behind him made him just a silhouette, his blonde hair was glowing, the faded daylight making him look nearly ethereal - but she knew better than that. Derrick Harrington was a demon.

"Listen, can we talk?" Derrick leaned against her car door and she could hear the smile in his voice. "It won't take long, I promise."

"Five minutes _max_ ," Massie said, unlocking her back doors. "Hi, Josh." She said to the figure loitering aimlessly behind Derrick.

"Hey," he gave her a weak wave before reluctantly getting into BMW.

Massie stared straight ahead. Cam's munching made her grip her steering wheel tightly, her knuckles were white. She felt Derrick shift in the middle seat at the back, and she felt Josh's steady gaze. Derrick leaned forward, his forearms resting on her's and Cam's seats.

"How are you?" He asked, his voice was suddenly smooth and welcoming. Like he wanted something.

"Cut the shit," she said, still staring straight ahead. Cam snorted. Josh coughed.

Derrick adjusted himself again, "Look, I don't know why you're so mad-"

"Oh my god," Josh muttered under his breath. Massie almost smiled.

"-anyway, besides the point. We have to talk about it sometime."

"We're talking about it right now." Massie said. Cam's chewing had reached it's highest volume yet. She reached over and snatched the donuts from his hands. He scoffed and tried to reach for them but Derrick slapped his hand away before Massie could. The white powder from Cam's fingers littered the center console and the ends of Massie's auburn hair. If she wasn't seething before, she was now.

"Look-"

"How many times are you going to say 'look?' Where am I looking? And why can't you get to the point?" Massie was staring at the single donut left. She'd have to go back inside the Windmill after they left. Or maybe she'd have to go to a completely different store now where the trio of chaos wouldn't find her.

"I'm trying to get to the point but you keep cutting me off-"

"Actually, I cut you off first," Josh said.

"-there we go again!" Derrick let out a frustrated sigh, "Okay, Massie. Look-I mean, see things my way. I don't want this to be an issue either but why can't we just pretend it never happened?"

"Oh my god," this time it was Cam. "Sorry." He said, " I forgot. No interrupting."

"Seriously?" Massie whipped her head around. Her hair slapped Derrick's hand and he flinched, retracting backwards as a few pieces hit his face. "Are you kidding me?" He looked like a deer in the headlights and she had made the mistake of looking him in the eyes.

"Mass, come on! This isn't that big of a deal, it really isn't."

"I think that's for me to decide." Massie was gazing directly into his eyes now and she was unwavering. She was not thinking about how the dim streetlight outside was making them glow a pretty shade of chocolate brown or that the few freckles he had by the bridge of his nose were visible from this distance.

He seemed to notice her sudden change of emotion, this moment of weakness, and biting back a smile looked back at her with the same intensity. "Josh. Cam. If you will, can you please give us a moment."

"Okay." Cam said, grabbing the last of Massie's donuts from her lap before she could stop him. Josh popped open the back door and got out, "wait, you want us to leave?"

Josh grabbed Cam's arm and pulled him out the passenger's door and Massie watched as they bickered, pushing each other toward Derrick's car. Derrick was still watching her.

"Can you tell me what you want without beating around the bush now?" Massie asked, crossing her arms over each other. She turned back toward the dashboard and Derrick climbed over the center console to the front seat. He knew she hated when people did that, but pointing it out would give him the satisfaction of knowing it made her mad. She stayed silent.

"Mass, Danny Robbins is not our problem." Massie groaned, putting her head against the steering wheel. "I'm serious! He doesn't concern us! What we saw was nothing, if you think about it. He was just, y'know, there."

"'He was just y'know, _there_.'" Massie mocked. She shook her head and turned to him, her temple still against the wheel. He looked amused. "I'm just confused as to why you had to bring me into this in the first place."

"What does that mean?" Now he looked offended.

"I don't know how else to rephrase that for you to understand. When you first got me involved in this grand fucking scheme, I did not think it was this nuanced. More importantly, I didn't know you three were _this_ involved."

"We're not." Derrick huffed. He ran a hand through his hair and stared out of the passenger seat window. "I told you that a million times. I just don't get why you don't understand."

"Griffin Hastings? Does that not ring any bells?" Massie snapped her fingers in front of his face and he turned back to look at her, the name triggering an expression of upset. "The fact that you don't get why I'm pissed off is the exact reason-"

"The reason you're pissed off is because you're always pissed off. At me at least."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Massie hit her head against the wheel dramatically. She heard Derrick sigh, "don't sigh."

"Are you really going to tell me what noises I can make? Massie, come on." He reached for her hand and she thought about pulling it away. "I wouldn't do that to you."

Massie rolled her eyes again and pulled her hand away, "see!"

"What?" Derrick was pretending to be confused.

"When you try cheesy shit like that, I know you're faking."

Derrick laughed, and reached for her hand again, she pushed it away. "Oh, come on." Derrick tucked her hair behind her ear, watching her expression. He bent over the center console and kissed her temple. She leaned into it. _Stupid_ , she thought. "I'm not faking." He said softly, kissing her cheekbone.

"I'm still mad." Massie mustered up the most steely voice she could. "Like furious."

"Naturally," he grinned at her but when he saw her straight face, his smile dropped. "I'm sorry."

"You know sorry isn't going to cut it." Massie stated, and she meant it. It wasn't. Not after what had happened. There was no way he was going to sweet talk his way out of it. Not this time.

"I know," He kissed her cheek and she closed her eyes. She hadn't kissed him in two weeks. Two weeks was a long time. "I miss you."

Without thinking much, she reached up and cupped his face, her thumb gently rubbing his jawline, "I'm really angry."

Derrick held back a laugh, "you keep saying that."

"I'm being honest," she frowned and kissed his jawline. She looked up at him. He looked back at her challengingly and her eyes moved to his lips. They were so close-

"Derrick!" Cam knocked on the window and they both huffed, straightening up.

Massie had to remind herself, she was trying to prove a point. This was not about her relationship, it was about what had happened and it was about why she was feeling this way. She couldn't let Derrick and his pretty eyes and his charming smile let her forget that.

"What?" Derrick asked, he tried to open the window but the car was off. He pushed open the door and Cam jumped back. "What do you want?"

"We told Mrs. Hotz we'd go over for dinner, remember? Or did you forget," Cam smirked in Massie's direction and she flipped him off. "We're gonna be late."

"Fuck," Derrick looked at Massie, pouting slightly and got out slowly. She started the car and backed up. _Damn Derrick and his stupid self_. "Massie!" He ran back from across the parking lot and gestured for her to open the window. She lowered it to hear whatever idiotic final remark he had to make. Before she could think about it much, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. She reached up to touch his face but he pulled away, that stupid smirk on his face again. "I'll see you at school tomorrow. Love you!" And he jogged back to his car.

He really was a demon.

* * *

"Wake up," Kristen nudged Nikki awake. Her arms were pushed off the table and for a moment Nikki forgot where she was. Looking around at the oversized world map and the bright sunlight pouring in from the windows, she was harshly reminded she was still at school. "She's assigning partners." Kristen whispered.

Nikki grunted and leaned back in her chair. She hated history. She didn't know why she was even in _AP_ history nonetheless. Wasn't it all the same? Some dude fucking shit up for everyone else? How were they offering a higher level version of the same bullshit? Did it change suddenly because you were taking Advanced Placement?

She scratched her face, waiting for her name to be called. If she got paired up with Kori Gedman again she was ready to complain to the principal. All Kori ever did was gossip and Nikki ended up doing all the work. If she had to hear Griffin Hastings' name one more time that day then Kori would not be walking out of history class. Maybe now was not the time to think such things. _Maybe_.

"Gregory, with Gedman," Mrs. Marks said, looking pointedly at Kristen. Nikki smiled gleefully and Kristen begrudgingly sighed and slid her books off the table.

"I hate these pair assignments." Kristen mumbled, Nikki waved at her.

"Better you than me," she said. Kristen stuck her tongue out and walked to the other side of the room where Kori was waving maniacally.

"Harrington, with Ryan," Nikki let out an audible laugh and Mrs. Marks shot her a look before continuing on. Derrick looked at her helplessly from the table across and Nikki shook her head. He then turned and shot Olivia a dazzling smile, walking over to her (she heard his, "Hey, Liv. How was your weekend?" and she snorted). He was born to be a politician.

"Solomon, with Fisher."

"Yes!" Dempsey hollered and Cam reached over and high-fived him. They were such neanderthals. Nikki looked down at her nails.

"Please, settle down." Mrs. Marks then droned on, "Wright, with Dalton."

Now _this_ was worth complaining to the principal about. _This_ was utter cruelty. Nikki hit her head on the table dramatically and someone snickered. Dempsey whooped, laughing. Beside him James rubbed his temples.

"Chill," James said, tapping Dempsey's arm. Nikki made eye contact, she was not willing to move. He looked back at her until finally he gave up, grabbed his things, and came over.

"Morning, sunshine." In between chews of that same wintergreen gum he'd been chewing since the seventh grade, James shot her his CrestWhite smile. She did not offer him one back.

"Morning, asshole."

"Ooh, rough morning? Someone's in a bad mood." He pulled the chair next to her out with his foot, the metal legs scraping on the linoleum floors, and dropped his books down.

She repeated what he had said in a high-pitched tone, he simply watched her and nodded, opening his book.

"Yeah, the maturity is at an all time high today." He flipped through the pages and then pulled out his notes.

"It's way too early for this," Nikki whined. James reached over and opened her notebook for her. "Can you not?" She said brusquely.

"I'm not getting a shitty grade because 11 AM is too early for you." James snapped his gum with his teeth and looked at the questions on the board and then back to his book.

"If it's AM, it's too early," she responded. She tapped her pencil against her notebook. When he finished writing, he slid his notebook toward her to copy his answer. "Why are you being so nice today?" She asked cautiously.

"When was I ever mean?" He asked innocently. She narrowed her eyes at him, "must I have an ulterior motive to be helpful toward my dear and old friend, Nikki?"

She leaned forward so her elbow bumped his and their noses were close enough to touch. She looked at his lips spitefully and then at his eyes which were hidden by the sheen the lights reflected off of his glasses, "if this is what I think it's about-"

"I have no clue what you're talking about," James said before sitting up and stretching, but his voice was low enough that she got the feeling he was lying. The light had bounced off his glasses now and she could see the penny brown of them rather clearly from this angle. Olivia Ryan had once said it was a shame they were hidden behind glasses, but Nikki never understood. She liked glasses, but that was neither here nor there.

He reached over and dragged his notebook back toward him, the ring on his hand scraping against the table as he did so. _He knew she hated that_.

"Hey," she tugged at the sleeve of his henley, "I know you know what I'm talking about."

"Dalton, you have no clue what I know," he stretched again, lacing his fingers together and lifting his arms above his head. His shirt went up and over at the next table, Strawberry and Skye Hamilton giggled. Layne Abeley stared. Nikki looked up at the ceiling in annoyance.

"Listen here, Wright," Nikki said coolly. She was calm suddenly with the notion that she had the upper-hand in this situation and somewhere James knew that. "I'm not playing any games with you."

"Who said I'm playing?" James said, going back to writing just as Mrs. Marks walked by. A wave of his black hair flopped into his eyes as he wrote and he pushed it back up messily, concentrating solely on the paper and not at the fact that Nikki was glaring at him.

"Can you not talk all suave-man to me?" Nikki was moving her pencil on her paper to create chicken scratch while Mrs. Marks paced between their table and Cam's.

"'Suave-man?'" James chuckled, "what does that even _mean_?"

"You know what I mean, like don't be all charming-"

"Charming? Miss Dalton, whatever may you mean by that?" He raised an eyebrow and gave her that demented little smile again.

"I'm not joking," Nikki continued to make random word-like patterns on her paper, "you being nice to me for one day isn't going to make me like you."

"You already like me," James said matter-of-factly, flipping his notebook over.

"I do not," Nikki hissed. Mrs. Marks turned around but their faces were still close to their papers. Satisfied, she walked away. "Why are we whispering? Everyone's talking. It's a partner assignment."

"I wasn't whispering, only you were," James shook his head at her and passed her his notebook again.

"Anyway, I don't like you and you know that-" he opened his mouth to talk but she cut him off before he had the chance to speak, "-and don't tell me 'you don't know what I know, Dalton'," she used the same mocking voice she had used previously.

"Well, I like you." James offered nonchalantly, skimming the pages of their history book. She hadn't even picked up her copy from the library yet and it was the third week of school. She had to get on that soon.

"You don't," she said in the same matter-of-fact tone he'd used, giving him back his notebook, " _I_ know that."

"You don't know that, Dalton. You _think_ it. It's your opinion." James stuck his pen behind his ear and scooted forward, engrossed in whatever was in the book.

"And your opinion, and give me a moment to remember it exactly. _Ah_! _Yes_ , your opinion, and this is verbatim, is that I am a self-absorbed, narcissistic - which may I add, is redundant - lunatic who is delusional enough to believe that my opinions are the only opinions. Need I go on?" She was counting on her fingers and stuck her hand out for emphasis.

"Huh, that doesn't sound like me." James turned the page, his jaw tightened as he chewed his gum with more vigor. "Sounds like another one of those opinions of yours."

"Right, because I'm delusional enough to concoct _that_ up." Nikki scribbled aimlessly in her notebook again as an attempt to hold in the bottled up anger of hers that was already spilling out. "And if it's my opinion then obviously I think it's the only one so what's the point of you trying to persuade me otherwise? I _'m a lunatic anyway_."

"Exactly." James muttered. "Besides, I said you were self- _obsessed_ , not self- _absorbed_. Quote me right or don't quote me at all, Dalton." He turned another page before giving up to look her in the eyes, "And may I add that your opinions also include, what was it again? Oh, that I'm a douchebag with no concept of other people's wants or needs and that I'm so cocky that I have to wear glasses from near-sightedness? I think it was you who also said I, and I quote, are surprised that James Wright can even walk in a straight line with all the time he spends thinking about himself. You also said that the term 'fuckboy' was created to find an accurate enough term to describe me. Not to menti-"

"Are you getting a little heated, Jamesy?" Nikki asked, batting her eyelashes. "I guess I was wrong about you. You don't spend all day just thinking about yourself. I mean clearly you have time set aside to go around and memorize the things I say about you to other people. Obsessed much?"

"I don't have to go around, you say it in front of my face." James answered. He was calmer now like he had somehow realized that _he_ had the upper-hand. _He didn't._

"You called me opinionated like you're some old man in the 1950s. I think everything I said is fairplay." Nikki crossed her arms over her chest and her rings glinted in the fluorescent lights.

"You said some of those things before I ever said that." James retorted.

"And? You've said things about me before that too, I just didn't finish my list. Besides, I don't understand how opinionated is such an insult-"

"If it's not then why are you so offended by it?"

"I'm not. I'm offended that you think it's an insult. What? Men are allowed to have opinions but I'm not? Seriously, did we hop on a time machine back to the fifties? What year is this?" Nikki scoffed.

"I never said it was about women having opinions, and you know that-"

"Do I?" Nikki challenged.

"Yes. You called me a jackass in psych. I find that opinionated. I don't find women's rights opinionated. They're _rights_. I find your general attitude opinionated." James was back to writing again, his chewing had slowed again. Somehow Layne Abeley had heard the exchange and was smiling at James like he had cured cancer. _So he believed in equality, did he deserve some kind of gold star?_

"The assignment was to go around and describe everyone in one word, and may I refresh your memory and remind you that your word for me was harpy." Nikki had leaned forward into his personal space again. She didn't know if it made him as mad as it made her when he would get too close but it was worth a try. He got closer and she almost flinched. She could smell the strong wintergreen scent from his gum. This was about winning.

He paused for a moment and then very coolly responded, "I would have used the words fucking getting on my goddamn last nerve but she said it was a one word limit."

"Well, I would have used self-aggrandizing prick but I thought jackass got the point across." Her voice was steadier than his had been, sickly sweet, and she knew this is what winning felt like. His breathing tickled her nose and she could practically feel his chest rise and fall. Getting James Wright riled up was typically hard, for Nikki it was a hobby.

Before he could say whatever he had planned to next, Mrs. Marks cleared her throat and Nikki peered up. She was standing behind them and towered over them. "Are you two finished?"

"Uh-"

"We're almost done with the last question," James said. Mrs. Marks nodded, she loved him. "We're just trying to get the wording right." Mrs. Marks nodded again and then looked at Nikki's paper with all the scribbles and doodles, sighed, and walked away.

They sat in silent agitation the rest of the period, James wordlessly passing her his answers, and when the bell rang James grabbed both their papers and turned them in without acknowledging Nikki at all.

"Jackass," Nikki mumbled on her way out. Kristen joined her at the door and before Nikki could begin yet another long-winded rant about how James Wright was an insufferable bastard, Kori Gedman walked out the door, whispering to Strawberry about Griffin Hastings. Nikki forgot all about James Wright.

* * *

The Westchester High lunch set up was kind of a mess. On the one hand the cafeteria was large enough to house all the students (barely) and had an upstairs that overlooked the entire place. However, there was the outside that was far more spacious and desirable but with the New York weather, it was unusable half the year. Therefore, Kristen and most of her friends had taken to sitting inside.

"It's just so ugly! I don't know why my mom bought it for me!" Dylan had been going on about a dress her mom expected her to wear at the Westchester Country Club Annual White Party.

"Then don't fucking wear it." Nikki said, "it's not that hard." She dropped her tray on the table and pulled out her phone, scrolling through probably Instagram.

"What's her deal?" Claire asked, ripping open her salad.

"She got partnered with James in history," Kristen said to the other two. If Nikki had heard her, she didn't show any signs of it. Nikki had been in a bad mood ever since third period AP US history and Kristen didn't need to ask her why to know. The answer was always, without a doubt, James Wright. In sophomore year they rode in the same car together for an away game and after that Nikki's bad mood had lasted a month. Cam swore he'd never ride in the car with either of them again.

"I don't get why you hate him," Dylan said, taking a bite out of her apple. Through chews she added, "he's _so_ hot."

"Dylan!" Claire and Kristen said at the same time. Nikki looked up at her, and shot her a dirty look.

"Try dating him and then get back to me," Nikki got up, mumbling angrily about forgetting a fork, but not before glancing at the second floor where the soccer team always ate. More anger washed over her face and she stomped away.

"I've been trying," Dylan joked but neither Kristen nor Claire laughed, "what? Come on, things didn't end _that_ badly. They hated each other before they dated too. Remember the whole, 'James wears glasses because of his near-sightedness?' That was like the eighth grade. They've been going at it for years. I'm sure the sex only helped- hey!" Claire had thrown an unopened packet of ketchup at Dylan's forehead. Kristen cracked up.

" _Anyway_ ," Claire said, stabbing her Greek salad, "on to happier memories, remember last year's White Party afterparty?"

"What about it?" Kristen asked as Nikki slid back into the seat beside her. Nikki snapped open a can of Coke and Kristen shook her head at her. She was constantly reminding Nikki that soda was bad for her but she never listened, probably just to spite Kristen.

"Well, Landon said he's going to throw it again," Claire squealed and clapped her hands together.

"Thank god!" Dylan sighed, "I'm definitely not wearing the dress my mom picked out now."

Kristen looked over at Nikki. Nikki cleared her throat and re-adjusted herself in her seat, "are you sure we should be going to any more parties?"

"Oh, come on, you _love_ parties, I'm surprised you didn't offer to throw it first." Claire moved away an especially dressing-soaked piece of lettuce. Dylan looked at Kristen and Kristen looked back at her before looking at Nikki and then Claire. "It might help to get our minds off of everything."

"Claire," Kristen said, looking around carefully, "do you think you could get me another yoghurt, you got me peach. You _know_ I like mango." She stuck her bottom lip out a bit and used her whiniest voice.

"Ugh, fine," Claire sighed, she always agreed to do things like that, sometimes the other girls took advantage of it. This time it was for her own good. "But we're not done talking about this party!"

When Claire was well out of earshot, Kristen turned to Dylan, "maybe Nikki's right."

"Maybe?" Nikki joked, but it was half-hearted. She glanced upstairs again. "I just don't think it would be in our best interest."

"No offense," Dylan proceeded and Kristen could already tell that Nikki would be exactly that, _offended_. "I just don't get why we have to pretend that we aren't friends with our friends and why we have to stop having social lives just because of _one_ incident. We should be sitting upstairs."

"It wasn't just an 'incident'," Nikki chided.

"I don't mind not sitting upstairs," Kristen said absent-mindedly. "Mass and Leesh don't sit there anymore either. It's not so bad."

Kristen really didn't like this topic and what it would inevitably collide with. The mention of it sent shivers down her spine but she knew she had to play it carefully. She had to remain levelheaded.

"Mass and Leesh are the least of our concerns. Massie is still dating Derrick," Dylan said. "She clearly doesn't care much about any of it either."

"Derrick didn't do anything," Nikki was always defensive over Derrick and Cam and Kristen knew better than to get involved. They'd grown up together, Derrick being Nikki's neighbor and Cam being her cousin, it just wasn't good territory to encroach on. She tore the crust off of her sandwich thinking about how best to diffuse the situation, even though that was usually Claire's thing. "Look around. What do you think everyone is talking about? _Us_. I heard Kori Gedman drone on and on about it in third period. And Ahnna - Ana? Anne? _whatever -_ that new girl, was asking Skye about it in fourth. We can't afford to be worried about our social lives."

If it was possible to whisper-shout then Nikki had perfected it to an art.

"So? If they're going to talk about us anyway, why can't we just sit with our friends? Doesn't it look weirder that we just came back to school and barely interact with them anymore? That's abnormal." Dylan's hair was getting in her yoghurt but Kristen didn't think now was the right time to tell her.

Tucking a honey-blonde lock behind her ear, Kristen took a deep breath, "guys, I think what we're doing is fine. And Nik, we'll just go to the afterparty for a little bit. He _is_ Claire's boyfriend and Dyl's right, it would be weird if we didn't go. And Claire's gonna catch on soon if we don't."

"Fine." Nikki and Dylan said at the same time.

Claire came sauntering back right on time with two yoghurts and slid one across the table at Kristen. " _Sooo_ , Kris, what are you wearing to the White Party?" Claire twirled her hair around her finger.

"White," Nikki mumbled sarcastically, taking another sip of her Coke. Kristen looked at her fleetingly from the corner of her eye and proceeded to ignore her comment.

"Not sure, I was thinking I'd go shopping after school if you guys wanna come," Kristen shrugged. The White Party was fun and all but she'd gotten kind of sick of the idea as the weeks had gone on. The Westchester Country Club wasn't exactly what people would call the most fun place to be. She'd spent all summer there perfecting her tennis and if she had to walk through those doors one more time she was going to barf.

"Down," Nikki said pouring dressing on her salad and shaking it up. "I need to buy a pair of jeans too."

"Same," Claire said, "I mean not about jeans but I have to buy shoes for Saturday."

"Ugh, I guess I'll come too," Dylan pretended to be annoyed.

Claire clapped again and then as if she had suddenly remembered something, gestured for the girls to lean forward, "my mom told me the Robbinses hired a new housekeeper." Dylan flinched, Nikki stopped chewing and Kristen felt the hairs on her arm stand up. "Isn't that weird? It hasn't been that long."

"Yeah," Nikki said, "wonder if they'll go to the White Party? By the way, Claire, I hear you have an outfit picked out for me?"

Despite Nikki's never-ending anger, it was always impressive how when it called for it, she could lie through her teeth or manipulate a situation to benefit her. It reminded Kristen that Nikki was a Westchester girl too, something that she often forgot. Perhaps it was this side of Nikki that allowed for her and Kristen to be so close. Kristen could see right through it.

"Oh my god, yes. You're going to _love_ it. I'm going to snag you the hottest homecoming date."

Claire droned on about the outfit she'd chosen for Nikki. It was funny that she didn't know better because Nikki probably wouldn't end up wearing it. Finally the bell rang and Kristen let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

* * *

If Alicia Rivera was worried, it never showed. Mainly because she did not want wrinkles and worrying meant wrinkles. It was aging 101. She had spent too many nights with her face lathered in rosehip oil to throw it all away for a random concern that meant nothing.

This was different though, she knew that. _Kind of_.

She pressed her face against the cold metal of her locker. Her cheeks were hot and she didn't know why. Maybe guilt was causing her to have a fever. Maybe, maybe not.

" _Did you ever know that you're my herooooo_ ," Cam Fisher sang behind her. He tapped the top of her head and she buried it deeper into her locker.

"Go away," she whined. When she felt that a minute had gone by, she pulled her head out and turned around to face him. She jumped, startled. "Fuck! Cam!" She slapped his arm, half-laughing.

"I came to give you back your books." He held out a Calculus textbook and workbook. Alicia grabbed it from him. "I thought you might need them but if not, I'm happy to keep those ladies warm."

"No thanks," Alicia shut her locker and spun the dial. "You might want to go to the library and get the books. We're going to have a test soon."

"That's what I have you for." Cam had pulled his phone out and was looking through it. "Do you wanna get burritos?" He looked up at her hopefully and Alicia shook her head. It was hard saying no to Cam. Aside from Massie, he'd always been her best friend, but times were changing. "Really? Is this that whole weird boycott thing?"

"No, this is the whole lay low thing. Just until things settle down. And you're really not helping the situation by standing here," Alicia was looking around the halls. For some reason she felt all eyes were on the two of them. She felt like someone was watching.

"It's weirder if we don't hang out. I just want to hang out with my best friend, is that a crime?" Alicia normally would have laughed but she shot him a look and the smile fell from his face. "Sorry, insensitive."

"Were you not there when they all decided it was best if we just ignored each other and minded our own business? You have the guys. I can talk to you in class but you're _really_ ruining the rest of it." She leaned back against the lockers. She could feel the stares again. And her body was suddenly burning. She felt a type of guilt she never thought she would experience, it was coursing through her veins and making her feel sick.

"Massie and Derrick hung out today. You and Kris sat next to each other in Calc. James and Nikki-"

Alicia snorted, "Really? Besides, Massie and Derrick are dating and I just told you that we can talk in class."

"It's just not really a well thought out plan, that's all I'm saying," Cam shrugged. "I was willing to buy the extra guac this time, but I guess not." He shrugged again and dramatically started walking away. He was pacing slow enough that she knew he expected her to keep talking.

"It costs 50 cents." Alicia huffed.

"I could be saving you 50 cents. I'm like Geico!" Alicia snorted again.

"Please, Cam, I'm not gonna be the one to fuck this up." She put her books between her legs to hold them and tied her hair into a ponytail. She was really starting to sweat now. None of this was good for her whole aging plan. Wrinkles were a definite possibility now.

"It won't be you, it'll be _us_. A team effort!" Cam raised his hand up for a high five but Alicia did not comply.

Sighing she slumped her shoulders, "Fine. One meal but you have to stop asking to hang out. At least not at school."

"This whole thing really gives a new meaning to all of our friendships. Kinda like Romeo and Juliet, forbidden love. Makes it really romantic."

Alicia pushed Cam slightly. She was laughing until her eyes caught the signs pinned up on the walls on the way out: GRIFFIN HASTINGS. MISSING. 17 YEARS OLD. IF FOUND CALL (568) 246-8212. That burrito was starting to sound a lot less appetizing.

* * *

Author's Note: I got some random inspiration to do a semi-mystery/semi-high school story (so original!). I've had this in my head for a while so fingers crossed it works out. I got really into story planning and building the world it's in. It's a very warped and fictional version of Westchester. The faceclaims I have for the characters are pretty different than what you'd think but FF won't let me link it in my bio anymore, so I threw them on a Tumblr with a little more information about the city. The link is at the bottom. The * is a period.

wastelandfic(tumblr)(*)com(/)tagged(/)links


	2. hellhounds

_A/N_ : This is a pretty long chapter! The next one will probably be shorter. Also, a lot of side characters are introduced but they're not all important to the plot at all, mainly just there to set up the White Plains community/school.

Enjoy!

* * *

 _hellhounds._

Dylan squinted her eyes through the morning sunlight and spotted Kemp Hurley leaning against his car in the school parking lot. With purpose, she huffed as she made her way over to him. This was only the third time this week that she had spotted him, which was unusual because Kemp Hurley was so loud you always heard him right before you saw him and he was a rather permanent figure in the halls of Westchester High.

"Kemp," Dylan said as she approached him, covering her eyes from the sun, "what the absolute fuck do you think you're doing?"

Kemp nearly dropped his phone in fright, juggling it from hand to hand to keep it from hitting the ground.

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you're avoiding me," Dylan crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him defiantly, Kemp just looked back at her like she was a lunatic. His eyebrows were scrunched together and his whole face just screamed ' _what the fuck_ '.

"Why would I be avoiding you?" Kemp asked, he did genuinely look confused and for a moment Dylan almost let him off the hook. But then she remembered what this was about and this was a lot more important than anything else. This was about her _dignity_. Her _reputation_. _Her future_ , _for fuck's sake_!

"I don't know!" Dylan threw her hands up. "Last week we were perfectly fine and then after Friday you've been dodging me. Look, I get if it's hard for you or whatever but you have to understand where I'm coming from-"

"Dylan, what is wrong with you?" Kemp asked with the most sincere tone Dylan had ever heard involved with what was also an insult.

"Do you really think you're in the position to use a tone like that with me-"

"I'm seriously confused-"

"I need you to keep tutoring me!" She was exasperated now and Kemp rolled his eyes. "I know that the subject matter is hard for me to tackle and maybe that's frustrating, but you promised and I have to get an A in Calc, I have to-"

"Why would I avoid you because of that? I'd just tell you to your face. I'm still tutoring you, okay?" Kemp pocketed his phone and started walking toward the school's entrance. With his long strides it was hard for Dylan to keep up, she scuttled after him, pushing her hair into place.

"Really?"

"Yes," Kemp gave her a brief glance, "just not this week."

Dylan grabbed his arm, "what do you mean, 'not this week'?" She threw up quotations with her fingers and then placed her hands on her hips. Her backpack was sagging on her shoulders but she didn't care. She needed this a lot. "You promised." She whined.

Kemp let out a deep breath, "I know, I know. I'm sorry, Dyl. I will tutor you, why don't you go study with Kristen for the week? I just can't right now. The tutor center has a lot of good resources too."

"You sound like my guidance counselor. The tutor center is dead. Kristen is the worst tutor I've ever had and I really need this to work or you know what my mom will do to me!" Dylan mimed a knife slicing through her throat. Kemp sighed.

"Fine, okay, I'll tutor you on Friday but uh," he looked around and scratched his neck, "it has to be off campus."

Suddenly Dylan noticed that there were a few eyes on them and she closed her own. She was tired of this constant scrutiny and this perpetual state of anxiety. This was not going to help her with Calc.

"Is that why you quit tutoring me?" Dylan said, trying her best to feign a look of calm while talking, she didn't need to raise any type of suspicion. She didn't even know what they would even raise suspicion about.

Well, she did. They thought that Dylan's group knew what happened to Griffin or more importantly that their group was somehow a part of it. They, whoever _they_ were, weren't necessarily wrong. Maybe that was the whole issue.

"Yes," Kemp turned half away from her and waved at someone from across the hall with the worst fake smile Dylan had ever seen - and she used to compete in pageants. "I just don't think it's a good idea to be seen together at school yet. But also, that's not the reason we need to meet off campus. I have something I have to do, okay? Friday at 4 P.M, meet me in the parking lot." He started to walk away but then as if he had just remembered something, turned back around to face her, "do not, under any circumstance, arrive on Dylan Standard Time. Please be there at 4 P.M. _sharp_."

Dylan scoffed but nodded and Kemp walked away.

"Thanks!" She said to his retreating figure, but he did not turn around.

Dylan felt a weight lift off her chest, of course this would have been quite different if she had managed to turn around and see the scene taking place in the Westchester High parking lot.

* * *

"I thought we're not supposed to be hanging out?" Cam asked as they pulled into the school lot.

Nikki was engrossed in some game on her phone and did not look up to meet his eyes.

"Yeah, let's just explain to our parents why we aren't talking during dinner this Thursday." She said sarcastically, followed by a series of curses under her breath as she no doubt lost the game. She locked her iPhone and rested her head back on the seat and looked at him. Cam watched her warily from the corner of his eye.

"Humor's _my_ defense mechanism, get your own," Cam reached over and pushed her into the car door.

"Jesus, Cam!" Nikki said, huffing, "you are so fucking irritating. I am literally telling your mother the next time I see her."

"She won't believe you," Cam said, offering a big smile and batting his eyelashes. "I'm her angel."

Nikki scoffed, "you are her demon and it's better she hears it now. I care for her dearly and I need her to know."

"I'm pretty sure Harris is her demon." Cam said, parking the car. He always liked to arrive somewhere right in the middle of the last thirty minutes before the first bell rang. That was when the traffic was the least. The early birds were gone and the late kids weren't even out of their houses. He liked timing his life to precision, he needed it.

"You're not wrong," Nikki unfastened her seatbelt and started to search through her bag, pulling out a smushed granola bar. "You want?"

Cam stared at it for a moment and looked back up at her. It had probably been thrown in there carelessly earlier in the week.

"Yes," he grabbed it from her and got out of the car.

"I only meant a piece of it!" Nikki shouted, shutting the door. "You can't-"

"Fine, you can have half." Cam looked at Nikki who was now completely silent and staring across the lot. He turned to match her gaze and dropped the granola bar on the ground. "What the f-"

"We're dead." Nikki said softly, she hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder and marched toward campus, Cam followed her slowly. "Fuck."

* * *

Kristen had a bad habit of falling asleep in the school library. She got to campus so early and stayed so late that she practically lived there. Griffin had joked once that Kristen only went home to take naps.

 _Griffin_.

She woke with a start to Derrick Harrington shaking her shoulder and only one word was still on her mind. Griffin.

She wasn't sure when to come clean to any of them but she knew that now, while a panicked Derrick Harrington was standing over her, was not the time. His eyes were wide with horror and Kristen rubbed at her own.

"What?" She asked sleepily. She searched in the first zipper of her backpack for her pack of gum.

"Kris, there are cops here."

Kristen didn't say a word, her eyes boring into his.

Derrick took this as his cue to proceed.

"The sheriff is here and there are rumors that the NYPD is going to get involved-"

"What exactly are they here for?" Kristen asked, scratching her arm as a way to do literally anything but think about what this meant. What this could do to her life, her future, her _friendships_.

"What do you think?" Derrick said, a shift in tone as he reverted to his usual sarcasm.

"I know what they're here for in that sense, but what are they doing _here_ ," Kristen clarified.

"They want to talk to the students who were at the party." Before Kristen could ask her next question, Derrick answered it, "they got a list from Danny of the people he remembered and the rest from pictures and stuff but I mean, it was the Back to School Banger or whatever the fuck Danny calls it. It's tradition, the whole school was there so I guess they didn't need any real leads-"

"You're rambling," Kristen said, rubbing her temples, "where is everyone?"

"The parking lot." Derrick said, "I came to find you. I expected you'd be in here since you basically liv-"

"Don't." Kristen said, picking up her bag and heading out of the library, Derrick hot on her tail.

They continued the rest of the walk in complete silence. Physically, Kristen was strutting in her usual calm demeanor through the halls of her high school. She didn't turn to notice anyone or take her eyes off of her path. Normal. Mentally, she was gnawing her nails off of her hands and when she wasn't busy doing that, she was ripping the hair from her head follicle by follicle.

Kristen pushed through the double doors with her shoulder, not ever wanting to touch the dirty Westchester High doorway. It was a habit that she liked to blame Nikki for. Derrick dashed out as the doors started to close behind him.

If anyone turned to look at them, Kristen did not notice. Her vision was still focused.

"They're in the side lot," Derrick said, his voice was wavering.

She could see them, in the distance on the side of the school. Josh's car was pulled up and stopped in the middle of the parking lot. The side lot was an area that few people parked in because it was the furthest from campus, and only those who showed up late would get stuck there. Right now, it looked like a sanctuary.

"Oh, thank god." Dylan said upon seeing the two of them. "Well, now that we've all gathered here, I think I can formally say, we're fucked. The hounds of hell are here and we are fucked. Fuckity, fuck-"

Cam snorted. Kristen shot him a look and he immediately looked down at his shoes.

"We get it." Kemp said, shooting her a glance to shut up. Dylan threw her hands in the air and leaned against Josh's car. Josh was still sitting in the driver's seat with the window rolled down.

"Where's Claire?" Kristen asked. Josh shrugged. Kemp gestured with his hands that he didn't know, and let out a frustrated sigh.

"I think she's already in class," Nikki responded, she was twisting a piece of hair on her index finger and unraveling it .

"Do you want _her_ here?" Derrick asked incredulously, his eyes were bugging out in a way that would probably have made Kristen laugh if it had been in regards to say the sports budget during leadership or the fact that "some douche" thought they could take his seat in chemistry - _not_ because the police were out to get them.

"No, of course not!" Kristen responded, "I want to make sure she's not anywhere near here. That's all."

"Chris and Leesh are in class too," Kemp added, "and I think Massie is with them-"

"Why?" Nikki asked, releasing her hair once and for all from her finger, "she was with us-"

"She doesn't have to be part of this, she wasn't part of-" Derrick started defensively. Kristen knew this was not going to go over well and while Nikki's anger usually stemmed from some sort of irrational thought process, Kristen had to agree with her on this. Just because Derrick favored Massie didn't mean she was any less responsible for the series of events that had taken place that night. Kristen shut her eyes tightly, she didn't like thinking about it.

"I think the police would definitely think she was just as fucking a part of it as us all," Nikki bit back. Derrick turned to James who had been silent the entire time, leaning against Josh's car beside Dylan.

"She should probably be here," James responded, he looked at Derrick apologetically and Derrick rolled his eyes. "It just doesn't make sense if she's not. She should have the same alibi as us-"

"Alibi?" Nikki asked dramatically, "what the hell, Wright?"

"Oh, so you want to tell the truth?" James scoffed, "sure, why not? I mean, fuck college. Let's just lay it all out there."

"This is extremely uncharacteristic of you," Kemp said, pinching his bottom lip between his index finger and thumb, "actually both of you. Who would have thought James would want to lie while Nikki wants us to be good little angels?"

"Your tone makes me think you agree with James and I, for one, think that's dumb as hell," Nikki responded.

"Can you guys shut up?" Derrick raised his voice and the rest of them stared at him. "Nikki, what good would telling the truth do?" Kristen closed her eyes again and rubbed her temples, she didn't want to voice who she sided with. She didn't want this type of guilt. She knew what they should do, what was right, and she knew what she wanted to do and more importantly she knew that they were contradictory.

"If we lie and we get caught, that's so much worse than having told the truth in the beginning," Nikki's tone was one of reason and earnest, it was definitely new and it was definitely a form of manipulation. Kristen knew that much. Nikki was hiding something, "if you think about it. I'm sure we can figure something out legally. I doubt our parents would ever let it get that far and we aren't responsible for what happened-"

"Nikki's trying to get us sent to jail, cool, cool, cool." Cam said nodding his head sarcastically. "I love this."

Nikki glared at him and went back to addressing the group, "look, I _know_ it sounds daunting but don't you guys want to find Griffin? Don't you want to know what happened?"

There was a moment of silence and the air around them seemed thick with hesitation.

"We're still accomplices," Dylan said, breaking the silence. "We can still get so much shit on us."

"Accomplices with which part exactly?" James asked with a tight-lipped smile. Everyone's eyes shifted around and Derrick let out a deep breath, "cause the fact we have to think about which part definitely sheds light on the situation."

Kristen knew she had a strong opinion on this particular subject. She knew that if they opened up that floodgate, the conversation would be never-ending. She also knew that if she opened her mouth now, she'd have to tell them. She'd have to tell them what she knew and if she did that? She was fucked. Royally.

"So you don't want to find your best friend?" Nikki's voice was even, dripping with a fake sweetness that Kristen knew would surely ruin James' day.

"Of course I want to find him," James responded without even a pause, "I want to know what happened to him just as much as you do-"

"Then act like it," Nikki growled, stepping forward.

"There are other ways to do it rather than share information with a corrupt police force-"

"Okay, the _NYPD_ is corrupt but the _Westchester Sheriff's department_? _Really_ -"

"They get paid to make sure we are drinking underage responsibly. Half of them spend their shift in White Plains stuffing their faces with Nino's. So yeah, I think corrupt is a pretty encompassing term."

Kristen did not have time for the two of them and their volatile fights. She needed this to be cleared up now. She needed to make sure that they all figured out a way to get through this without a scratch on them. _She needed to make sure they wouldn't find out._

Kristen took a step forward which promptly broke James' and Nikki's attention as they glanced over. Kemp looked up from the ground.

"We can't tell them anything yet. If we keep our answers general enough they can't hold anything against us. We all have to be on the same page though. Tell them everything up until when the night ended. Tell them the truth about when you last saw him."

"Wow, I mean...I kind of agree with that." Kemp said. Everyone else stared at him warily. "I mean sure, we can get in trouble later but if we just answer minimally, we can't get in that much trouble-"

"Why don't we just say we won't answer questions without an attorney?" Derrick asked.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Nikki guffawed, "how much _Law & Order_ do you consume on a day-to-day basis, Derrick? Everyone in school is going to be answering those questions and we're gonna be the idiots who say we want attorneys? How self-aware is that?"

"I kind of agree." James muttered.

"Maybe for now answering the questions will be fine, but in the long run?" Dylan retorted.

"I think we should just listen to Kristen." Kemp offered again, shrugging.

Kristen mouthed a 'thank you', Kemp nodded.

"Listen to Kristen about what?" They all turned to see Alicia standing there, looking rather confused. Kristen played with the lace hem of her tank top. Kristen had never disliked Alicia but right about now her timing was pissing Kristen off.

"About the pregame for the White Party," Cam said without a second thought. "Wait Leesh, I need to see your Calc book before class." He walked away and Alicia went with him, a look of mild confusion on her face.

"We're all going to do my plan for the pregame by the way," Kristen said loudly enough for Cam and Alicia to hear, "or we're definitely going to regret it."

No one protested and Kristen marched back to campus, throwing her honey blonde hair behind her shoulder. She hoped that no one could see her sweating.

When she reached the steps to the school she peered back to see that Derrick, Cam, James, Josh and Nikki were still huddled together in the parking lot. The bell rang before she could dwell on it too much and by the end of first period she had almost forgotten the situation with the police.

Almost.

* * *

"So that announcement was wack," Alicia said, tearing open a Greek yoghurt. She licked her finger when some of it got on her thumb. "I mean during fourth period leadership too? Ugh, Principal Burns is such a buzzkill."

"Yeah," Massie said, drawing designs for the Homecoming advertisement. "Weird."

"I mean, no one is even here. Did Burns really need _all_ of E-Board to talk about the interrogation?" Alicia dug her spoon into the yoghurt and waited for Massie to respond.

"Um, yeah, weird."

"You said that," Alicia responded. She peered over to look at Massie's designs. Per usual, they were spectacular.

"Yeah, sorry. I mean it _is_ weird. They probably just want to get leadership on it so we can all spread morale throughout the school to keep people from reading too much into it all. That's all." Massie shrugged but Alicia could see that Massie looked and sounded a lot more worried than she was letting on.

"Okay...you don't think anyone knows anything, do you?" Alicia whispered, leaning forward. She wagged her eyebrows but Massie rolled her eyes. Alicia may have been letting off a vibe of nonchalance but she wanted to know if anyone did know and if anyone blamed her. She wouldn't know what to do if Griffin's disappearance got pinned on her, she felt bad enough already.

"No, Leesh, I don't fucking know anything." Massie snapped.

"I didn't say _you_ do." Alicia went back to eating her yoghurt and Massie went back to drawing. Alicia could feel the anxious butterflies in her stomach. Massie may not have been scared but Alicia was. She felt horrible. And she felt like her world was crumbling. She just didn't know who to talk to about it and Massie was being particularly stony about the whole ordeal.

None of this would have happened had it not been for her. Maybe Griffin would be there right now, sitting on the other side of the leadership room throwing darts at Plovert's back. He'd have been cracking one of his dry, wise-ass jokes and winking at their leadership teacher but now they didn't know where he was, let alone if he was even _alive_. That thought made Alicia's heart to sink. It was all on her.

The meeting she'd come across in the parking lot had peaked her interest as well. It was rather unusual for them to be standing there whispering at each other and it made Alicia's mind wander somewhere it shouldn't.

"Mass," Massie sighed and looked up, "look," Alicia scooted forward and looked around. The leadership classroom was almost empty, "you don't think...you don't think any of them know anything, right? You don't think they're involved?"

"What? Why would I-"

"It's just why would they suggest we don't eat together? That's so out of the blue-"

"It just looks suspicious and it's out of respect, okay? And we don't want people to think we had anything to do with it-"

"So we don't _eat_ together? That seems kind of...counterintuitive. And Nina-"

"They have their reasons, okay? Forget what Nina thinks. It made sense when Derrick explained it. If you want to know, just ask him. Sorry my translations are shitty." Massie was being sarcastic now and Alicia hated that.

She took a deep breath.

"No, it's not just that. They were in the side lot today. They were just standing there in a circle by Josh's car. It was so unnerving. And now the cops are here-"

"Leesh, it's probably best if we stay out of it. They have their own drama or whatever and their best friend just went missing. We weren't that close to Griffin. I don't think we should be accusing our friends of anything." Massie shut her notebook and got up, "stop overthinking shit."

Alicia watched as Massie walked away to the executive room to drop off her designs and sighed. _Was_ she overthinking it? The announcement said that it was just routine questioning where each student would provide information about the party, not about any involvement, only their personal experience. It hadn't been accusatory but Alicia knew enough from her father's cases that the cops never put all their cards out on the table. Who knew what they were actually looking for?

The students had a night to let it sit and were going to be pulled out of classes the next day for brief questioning, this gave Alicia plenty of time to mull it over with her dad, but not enough to figure out where she stood with it all.

Alicia leaned back in her chair and looked around the empty leadership room. Olivia Ryan was typing away on one of the Macs, probably not doing any work at all. Some guys were outside hitting around a hacky-sac but again, doing nothing. Claire was on the phone with some vendors for Homecoming. Without everyone else there, the room was uncomfortably peaceful, like the calm before a storm.

 _What had they been talking about in the parking lot and why the hell was Massie being so strange?_ If she told the cops what she knew, if she laid herself out, who else was she throwing under the bus? One night wasn't enough to figure it out, but she hoped it would be.

She wondered briefly what had happened to Griffin. Images of him tied up in a basement cropped up in her head and she shook them away, _she was being crazy_. Things like that didn't happen to Griffin Hastings, and yet...maybe they had.

* * *

Claire knew when there was something up with her friends. Not that it would take a genius to figure it out when they all went about their days pretending that they weren't brooding.

In fourth period leadership, the Executive Board was asked to leave the room in order to have a quick talk with Principal Burns about the questioning that was going to be taking place the rest of the week and Claire could see, without even looking too hard, the panic on her friends' faces as they marched out of the room. This was natural, she knew. She had felt the same dread, the same distress at feeling like this put everything into perspective. This wasn't some joke or some hoax, Griffin was... _gone_.

She just wished it wasn't such a taboo subject to bring up, for whatever reason.

She slumped against the passenger's seat in her boyfriend's car. He'd picked her up after school had ended and she was happy to take advantage of the few lingering days of summer they had left. The weather never stayed this nice for long.

"You okay?" Landon asked, edging forward in the car as they sat in the drive-thru for the White Plains local diner.

"I'm fine," she said smiling, reaching over to hold his hand. He ran his thumb over her knuckles. "I'm just tired."

"Come _on_ , you don't have to lie to me," Landon said, leaning over and kissing her shoulder. Claire giggled. "If you wanna talk about it, we can. They came to White Plains today too."

Claire twirled a piece of hair around her finger, "they did?"

"Yeah, I mean it did _technically_ happen at the Back to School Bash or whatever Danny calls it," Landon chuckled, "we were all there too. Coach told us to get attorneys."

At this Claire sat up, "attorneys?" She repeated.

"Yeah," Landon drove up further in the drive-thru, "you never know how you can be attached. Not just people who are guilty get attorneys, you know, and however we get tied into this-"

"You think you'll get tied into it?" Claire, pulled her hand from his and stared at him intensely. What did he mean by 'tied into it'? Was Landon involved, did he know something she didn't?

"No, I just mean, there was a lot of underage drinking and stuff going on," he shrugged, "you never know how much trouble we could get into for that."

"Oh," she relaxed again, "yeah, but they're not going to arrest hundreds of teenagers in Westchester for that." She laughed with relief, maybe this would all just blow over and she could just focus on more important things like the White Party. Maybe Griffin would just come home, maybe this was just one of his elaborate pranks or part of one of his deeply insensitive kicks. He did ruthless things a lot. _Maybe it caught up to him?_ She didn't like that thought so she pushed it away to the back of her mind. She was sure he was fine.

"Who knows?" Landon responded, "cops are crazy, haven't you ever watched _The Wire_?"

Claire cackled, "yes, I have but I don't think _you_ have if you think they're the bad guys in that show."

"Maybe," Landon grinned, "but it got you to laugh."

"You're so cute," Claire pinched his cheek and he offered her one of his weak-in-the-knees smiles.

Claire smiled brightly as Landon reached out the door to pay for their food and get their bag of burgers. She didn't know what she did to get so lucky. Landon was perfect. He was cute, brilliant, talented and treated her better than anyone else ever had. Granted he went to White Plains which meant during soccer season the guys ragged on him more than usual, but in the end it was worth it. On top of that, he got along with Kristen, Nikki and Dylan which meant more to Claire than anything else.

"Should we eat first or head over?" Landon asked. Claire grabbed her milkshake and swatted Landon's hand away when he tried to get from her.

"I'm fine with either."

"Alright, mmm, Danny will probably get annoyed, let's head over." Landon sped out of the parking lot and Claire cleared her throat.

"I haven't seen Conner in a while," Claire said, peering over at Landon for his reaction. Landon looked back at her and smirked like he knew where she was going with this. "I mean, naturally, _I_ haven't..."

"Just ask," Landon said, holding back a laugh. "I know you want to know."

"I mean, I just feel bad hanging out with him when you know, Nikki..." Claire sipped her milkshake and Landon sighed.

"He's fine, honestly." Landon replied, reaching into the bag to grab some fries. He stuffed his face and Claire giggled at the sight, "I mean they dated for a while so I guess he was upset about it after but I think he's fine now."

"Really?" Claire asked, "Hmm, cause Cam says-"

"Cam?" Landon's face soured and Claire immediately felt bad. "Like Fisher knows shit."

"I just," Claire placed her hand on Landon's shoulder, "I just meant that he ran into Conner and told _Kristen_ that Conner looked upset."

"Oh," Landon said, he nodded his head. "Yeah, I mean she ended it kind of brutally."

"That's Nikki for you," Claire snorted. She extended herself over the center console and kissed Landon's cheek. "But she's a pretty good judge of character, and Conner's a little-"

"Nuts?" Landon joked, back to his normal self. Claire eased herself back into her seat and ate some of the fries at the bottom of the bag. "I mean she did date Wright, so I can't say she's the _best_ judge of character."

"Hey!" Claire hit his arm lightly, "James is a great person."

"Yeah, try not to mention that in front of Conner. Besides, it's called loyalty!" Landon said in fake bravado, "Wright could be the best person on this planet and I'd have to stick by Conner."

"You don't _have_ to," Claire said as Landon parked his car in the Robbins' driveway. Danny was one of the only White Plains boys to live in Westchester, which was convenient enough for her but Landon always complained in the night when he had to drive back to White Plains.

"What? It's like you and Todd."

Claire busted out laughing, "he's my actual brother, it's different."

Claire opened the door and hopped out. She got kind of nervous hanging out with Landon's friends. She liked when he hung out with her friends but she knew how miserable he became, and the guys could be terribly clique-ish, _especially_ when Griffin was around. Thinking of Griffin in the past tense made her jaw clench. She pushed the thoughts away again, her mom always said that happiness came from compartmentalizing. If you dwelled on it too much it would ruin you.

The door to the house was open and the two of them slipped in, kicking their shoes off. Danny's house was always freezing. The foyer had a ten-foot tall, golden Ganesha welcoming them into the home. The rest of the house was stark white in contrast.

Claire shivered, she hadn't been there since the events of the 11th. Her heart started pounding wildly and she wasn't sure why.

"Claire?" Landon said when she had stopped walking, she hadn't even realized.

"Huh? Oh," Claire nodded and followed him, peering back at the staircase that led upstairs. Something felt eerie about being there, but she couldn't put her finger on why.

It was probably because this had been where Griffin was last seen, and that was probably subconsciously making her uncomfortable. _That's all_.

They were welcomed by loud hollering as the guys surrounded the TV, Danny and Conner were in a heated game of 2K. Claire rolled her eyes. They were all the same. Dune was sitting in the corner of the room on his phone, looking bored, he had always been her favorite of Landon's friends. He reminded her of Josh in some ways. Ignacio and Brady were stuffing their faces with popcorn and yelling at the TV like it was an actual game of basketball.

"Don't you guys play _soccer_?" She asked, they looked up at her.

"Hey there, Lyons," Conner said, his eyes locking back to the screen.

Danny looked up at Claire with a look of _horror_? In Danny's distracted state, Conner made a basket and the guys in the room cheered.

"What's wrong with you, man?" Landon asked, walking over and grabbing Danny's shoulder.

Danny shook his head and smiled, "I saw your bag of Nino's Burgers and I remembered there are more important things in life than winning."

"You're only saying that because you're a fucking loser," Brady Ericson yelled from across the room.

Claire couldn't shake the feeling of Danny's look. She slinked into the kitchen to get something to drink that wasn't her chocolate milkshake. Something bizarre was definitely afoot.

She noticed the purses of some of the girls on the countertop but none of them were around. Unlike her Westchester friends, the White Plains group hung out separately a lot. They'd go to the same place but the girls would disappear into some abandoned corner of the house, not to be seen until everyone was leaving.

At least that's how she felt until she heard their voices carrying in from the dining hall. She picked up one of the bottles of cold water that were set out next to a pitcher of lemonade. Whoever the Robbins' new housekeeper was, they were putting in a lot of extra effort.

"-he probably finally got caught up for everything and ran away," Nina Callas said. "Leesh won't tell me anything but who even knows what she knows."

Claire pursed her lips, inching closer to the dining hall.

"Well, who knows what _any_ of them know. Rumor has it they helped him run away." Ripple added. Claire tightened her grasp on her water, the bottle becoming deformed in her grasp.

"That Westchester group is so sketchy," Isobel added.

"Well," Ripple said with a tone of amusement, "you weren't saying that when they were supplying you-"

"Ladies!" Danny said, sauntering into the dining hall, Claire ducked back into the kitchen but she was afraid he'd already seen her. "What are we gossiping about today?"

"We're not gossiping," Isobel quipped, "we're just talking."

"I wouldn't get caught pretending like you know information about Griffin Hastings, the cops might hear you," Danny joked and then erupted into laughter, Ripple snickered.

Danny walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water and glanced up at Claire. He walked over to the fridge, whistling. Claire just stared at his back.

"So Lyons," Danny said, turning around to her as he shut the doors to his fridge. She looked at him across the vast expanse of the Robbins' massive kitchen, waiting for him to speak. "Your friends give you any information I need to know about?"

Claire blinked, "excuse me?"

"They didn't send you here?"

"I'm hanging out with my boyfriend. _Landon_. Your best friend. I don't know what my friends have to do with that." Claire responded, her hand was slick with condensation from the water bottle and she wiped it on her shirt.

"Really?" Danny asked, approaching her cautiously like she was a geyser ready to blow. "Nothing at all?"

"No, I don't know what you're talking about. You're being _really_ weird. Are you okay?" She furrowed her eyebrows and he watched her face as if he was measuring out what his next words would be.

"Never mind," he said, not even bothering to give her an alibi for his absurd behavior. "If you see Derrick, tell him we need to talk."

And he left Claire standing there completely and utterly baffled.

* * *

Summer nights in Westchester were often thick with humidity but as summer fell into autumn, the air chilled after a certain time of night and it was kind of... _awful_. Kristen pulled her jacket tighter on her body. She huffed and tucked her head closer to her chest. Her hair was whipping past her in the wind and her hands were shoved into the pockets of her favorite leather jacket.

She had walked all the way from her apartment complex to the thickly lined trees of North Westchester. These were the homes owned by the most powerful families in town, the ones who had old money, some who had been living there for generations. Houses on this side of Westchester were sprawling estates with big windows and beautiful architecture. They had back houses and poolhouses and guest houses with their own detached garages.

This side of town _never_ had a house for sale.

When she was younger, she remembered bounding up and down these streets with pigtails, chasing after Nikki and Derrick. She had been carefree then. In middle school she had longed to have the lifestyle of the Fishers and the Hastings. High school was when she accepted what she had. Her dad was an art dealer, an accomplished one at that, she lived a life most couldn't afford and she was okay with it. She didn't have the same expectations set for her like James. Still, there were nights like this one where she wondered what it would be like to tuck away into a silk duvet in one of the towers of the passing houses, to have a wrought iron gate with a _G_ for Gregory, embellished and shining even in the moonlight.

A car whizzed past her and Kristen walked closer to the trees. People rarely drove up this part of Westchester. It was a luxury only these families could afford.

South Westchester, closer to the freeways and that much closer to Manhattan, housed the new money of town. People like the Blocks and the Riveras. People who chose flashy cars over collectibles. People who spent their money without a purpose on things like custom jewelry that could pay off the debt of a college student or useless tech gear. Their houses were boasting all the latest designs, but you could walk those streets. There were few houses hidden behind gates or trees. Just circular driveways and endless backyards.

There was only a slight distinction between the two halves of Westchester and it was unspoken, but if you looked closely between two people, you could tell. It was the difference in Claire's favorite sweater and Nikki's. One with a visible logo and the other saved for the label.

Kristen had the luck of living in neither part. She lived in Downtown Westchester. It was a busy little area with boutiques and some big brands. It was lit up in the night and had cobblestone walkways. Kristen's parents owned the top floor of the most expensive apartment complex in town. Yet she still found herself wanting more. She was never fully content. She couldn't help it.

 _"Careful, Kris. You're going green."_ Kristen shivered at the memory and shook her head.

She was here for a purpose. She took a quick turn down one of the streets and looked both ways. Her heart was beating erratically.

The others clearly knew something she didn't, or they were keeping something from her. No matter what, she had to get to the bottom of this and the only way she could figure any of it out was if she continued with her plan.

When she reached her destination, she looked up and took a deep breath. She could have gotten there blindfolded if she had to.

The Hastings' House was anything _but_ a house. It sat atop one of the hills of Westchester and overlooked a deep canyon of trees below. Usually the lights of the home itself could be seen peeking out from the trees and inside it was often a lively place, but lately it seemed more sinister than anything else.

Kristen stretched her arms and zipped up her jacket. She had to be very discreet.

The gate to the Hastings' property was looming over her challengingly. The handles of the gate made an _H_ and would open only if one were to press a button in their car. Typically a man stood watch but since Griffin's disappearance the Hastings had gone away, leaving their house deserted.

Kristen gulped, she was going to do this, she _had_ to. She walked to where the gate tapered off into the trees. There was a small enough gap to throw her bag over, but she would not fit. She looked over at the tree closest to her and chucked her purse over the fence. Now she had to go get it. There was no backing out.

Kristen reached for the closest branch and then gripped her foot onto the tree. She prayed to no one in particular that the branch would hold her weight. She pulled herself up and then kept going further.

She was glad she had worn sneakers.

When she was high enough, she scooted closer to the end of the branch she was on and as it creaked forward, she leapt onto the ground.

She landed in the grass and teetered back and forth until she got her balance. She had to admit she was mildly impressed with herself. She grabbed her purse from the ground, and looked ahead.

Now came the hardest part. The driveway to the actual house was a rather long one. Griffin's great-grandparents, who had first come across the property and taken it over, had been extremely paranoid about their neighbors and they had taken every precaution for security.

The trees whistled in the wind, leaves flapping as a breeze sped by. Kristen didn't like horror stories or murder mysteries or anything mildly spooky, she liked to say it was because she didn't believe in them but currently she had to admit it was more because it was scaring her.

The gravel of the driveway crunched beneath her Nikes, despite her efforts at trying to be lithe on her feet. The house was a mass of gray bricks and like most of the homes on this side of Westchester, palatial in build. Kristen swallowed hard as it approached, her breathing was picking up and it wasn't just from the walk.

She remembered the very first time she had arrived at the Hastings', she had been in awe of the grounds the home sat on. Griffin always said that his mother was borderline obsessive about tending the land. Kristen had been immediately enamored by their family home and how with only four of them, it remained like a fairytale land, untouched by reality. But now, as it stood above her in the distance, it felt a lot more like a _Grimm_ fairytale.

There was the sound of a snapping twig somewhere in the midst of the evergreens and Kristen's heart nearly stopped before it began pounding even harder in her chest. Her palms itched with sweat and she was struck by the thought that maybe Griffin Hastings wasn't missing...maybe it was something darker and maybe, just maybe she was next.

Immediately her mind went into hyper-drive, she sprinted without glancing back, and raced to the house. She ran up the circular driveway, kicking up gravel as she did so, and almost slipped up the white marble steps to the front door. She leaned against it, breathing hard and looked out at the path she had come from.

Everything was completely still. Just the wind, causing the trees to moan with the twists and turns of the night.

Maybe she had imagined it.

She looked at the fountain in the driveway, the only noise was the dripping of the water that was overflowing from the top. The fountain had been turned off but droplets were plopping into the basin beneath it.

Kristen gathered herself, she was being ridiculous. This was one of the safest properties in all of Westchester.

It donned on her momentarily that she had snuck in and maybe it wasn't impossible for someone else-

She shook her head, tied her hair up and proceeded to walk to the other side of the house. She made her way through the hedges, staying close to the house. She passed the detached garage and saw her opening. The Hastings' always left part of the kitchen window open to let air out. Their cook would groan on and on about being claustrophobic and neither Griffin nor his family ever stayed in the kitchen for longer than a few minutes. They wouldn't have thought to close it before leaving.

She unzipped her purse and reached inside, pulling out a vintage Swiss Army Knife her dad kept framed in his collectibles, he would never notice. She cut a straight line down the side of the mesh of the window, making it into a flap. It was a little higher up than she remembered, but she'd already come this far.

Hoisting herself up, she pulled herself through the window, sticking one foot directly into the Hastings' sink. She put her head in next and her other foot came crashing in. Her leg accidentally caught the faucet and the water came pouring out directly onto her Lululemon leggings.

"Shit!" She hissed, turning the water off and hopping out of the sink.

If she had any sense at all, she would have noticed the light on in the family room.

If she had any sense at all, she would not have been loudly cursing without double checking the perimeters.

If she had any sense at all, she would have seen _Fawn fuckin' Hastings'_ car parked by the garage.

But apparently all sense had escaped her.

"Kristen?!"

 _Fuck_.

* * *

Author's Note: From what I recall Fawn never had a last name? Well, either way I made her a Hastings, so...Also Nina and Alicia are still cousins and Nina's sister is Isobel. However, Celia will be introduced later as a minor character and she's not their sister. Like I said earlier, none of the side characters are super important besides Danny and then to some extent Landon and Fawn. I introduced them just to set up like an outsider's perspective of what's going on (also if you notice, every single one of them is a character in The Clique universe). This chapter also, I hope, clearly introduced that they all have different levels of involvement with what happened to Griffin. Alicia just feels guilty but she's not really part of it, we'll see why later. Massie is more involved than she is letting on and Kristen knows something the others don't, which may or may not be pretty obvious.

Anyway, I hope you read all of that. I'm sorry it was so long. I think for now I'm going to keep the story _mainly_ within the girls' perspectives, I don't know yet.

Also, I'm curious, who are your favorite characters so far?

Also, I didn't proofread so I'm sorry for all the mistakes, I will edit it more tomorrow.

Thanks! (and be sure to check out the Tumblr wastelandfic(*)(tumblr)(*)com(/)tagged(/)links


	3. skeletons

_A/N_ : This entire chapter was going to be texts from their group message, which I had sitting in my drafts for like three months but this somehow seemed a lot better. However, the next chapter might be a lot more text message heavy. These texts are also all on Claire's phone, thus the names.

Also they're all juniors. Fawn and Sammi are seniors, so are Jaime and Ryan who are twins in this.

* * *

 _skeletons._

 _claire lyons:_ hey  
 _claire lyons:_ i know you're on your phone. you just watched my snap story.  
 _claire lyons:_ derrickkkkkkkk  
 _claire lyons:_ derrick, your read receipts are on, i know you're seeing this  
 _claire lyons:_ i'm calling your house phone if you don't answer in  
 _claire lyons:_ 5  
 _claire lyons:_ 4  
 _claire lyons:_ 3  
 _derry harrington:_ jesus, i'm on the treadmill, relax.  
 _claire lyons:_ danny is acting weird  
 _derry harrington:_ ...and?  
 _claire lyons:_ he said he wants to talk to you  
 _claire lyons:_ ? derrick  
 _claire lyons:_ waht is going on  
 _claire lyons:_ what**  
 _derry harrington:_ idk he's always weird. prob has to do w soccer.  
 _derry harrington:_ speaking of which, i have to go practice soon. c u tomorrow

* * *

 _March 2017_.

Kristen waited for her phone to load. Ubers were not a common thing in Westchester, her mom was the closest thing to it for her, but she was desperate and knew she had to get out of that party and fast. Plus, she didn't need her mom anywhere near the Fishers' house at this current moment. Her head was spinning and she felt nauseous for absolutely no reason. Usually if she was drunk, she wanted to leave. Once she had sensory overload, she needed to be alone, or with far fewer people. It probably didn't make sense for an introvert like her to be as close as she was to the world's most obnoxious group of extroverts, yet here she was.

"You need a ride?" She heard a deep voice behind her, she nearly jumped but relaxed slightly when she saw Griffin, but not enough that she didn't still feel mildly on edge. She couldn't be certain but she had an inkling that's how Griffin made everyone feel.

"Are you drunk?" She asked.

His response was a wry smile, "come on, I'll drop you off at home."

She followed behind him slowly as he walked toward his car. All the other cars were by the unattached garage or lining the street outside the home. He had the liberty of parking it right at the foot of the circular driveway, where the doors to the house were. No one would have opposed, she guessed.

"Why are you leaving so early?" Kristen attempted conversation and Griffin seemed amused but didn't comment on why.

He unlocked the doors to his Maserati, Kristen almost threw up. She wondered if he knew how spoiled he was, if the thought had ever crossed his mind. If he knew anything at all about the world and what other people were living like or if it all just seemed like some type of fever dream or a fable to teach little rich kids to finish their dinners. But Kristen knew she couldn't point fingers. She too lived in Westchester, she too had that silver spoon. But Griffin was more than just a Westchester kid, she supposed. Griffin was Westchester royalty. A god. _Their_ God. She couldn't help but mull on the idea of whether or not he ever thought to come down and see it, see the world he graced just to get a peak at what it was like.

It was during this analyzation of Griffin's privilege that she realized she had never actually been in his car before.

He slid in to the driver's seat and Kristen popped the passenger side open carefully. Griffin had a bad habit of taking his time to respond to questions, "I just got tired." Before he started his car, he reached into the side of his seat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, "you mind?"

Kristen looked at him with a look of disgust, "yes."

Griffin snorted and put it back, started the car up, and pulled out of the grounds of the Fishers' home.

Kristen realized suddenly that she had never really been alone with Griffin for longer than a few minutes. They'd been friends enough to ask for favors, laugh at each other's jokes, and sit together in classes, but not close enough to be alone in a car for a fifteen minute ride. She wished badly that Nikki was with them but she and James had disappeared hours ago.

Griffin's music erupted from the speakers, a loud, banging rap song. Kristen shifted in her seat as Griffin lowered the windows. He wasn't a man of many words, but she couldn't tell if this was a time where maybe conversation should have filled the somewhat silence.

"I live in the Castello," she said.

Griffin looked at her from the corner of his eyes, a smirk on his face, "I _know_ where you live."

She tucked her hair behind her ears and let out a deep breath, "I just wasn't sure." She was speaking just to fill the silence.

He looked at her again and then back at the road wordlessly. The only movement from his end was when he pushed up the full-sleeves of his shirt, his rather obnoxiously sized Rolex glinting in the light.

She then came to the conclusion that if Griffin wanted conversation then he was just as responsible for saying something. She clicked the lock button on her phone. She had two messages. Both from her mom.

As if he had been reading her thoughts, Griffin spoke, "you're not a fan of parties?"

"I am." Kristen responded, "I like them."

"Convincing," Griffin laughed again. He had a nice laugh when he meant it. Not that menacing guffaw he gave people, that came across more intimidating than anything else. This laugh was warm, deep and kind of comforting. Pleasant.

"Why do you say that?" She asked, turning to him.

"I dunno," he said nonchalantly as he switched lanes, "I've noticed. You just seem...uncomfortable."

Kristen scoffed and Griffin laughed again. "That's so...that's so _mean_!"

"I didn't mean it like that," Griffin rested his head back on his seat, his chin pointing up. He never apologized, just clarified things and let you come to the conclusion that you wanted to. If he ever apologized it came once and wasn't offered again. That was Griffin Hastings, and Kristen often found herself wishing she had the same confidence and composure. "I just noticed."

"Noticed what?" Kristen challenged, an edge to her voice that she meant to sound more like Dylan's playful tone but sounded angry instead.

Either way, Griffin still seemed to find this funny. He rested a hand on the side of his car and placed his chin on his fist. He shrugged, "you just don't get involved."

"I like hanging out with you guys. I just don't like being with bigger crowds where there are strangers. It's overwhelming," Kristen crossed her arms over her chest.

"So you don't like parties." Griffin stated in the way a lawyer might have lead a witness to an answer on a cross examination.

"I-that's _not_ what I said!" Griffin burst into another fit of laughter, it was infectious. Kristen found herself trying not to smile, "What, do _you_ like parties?"

"Yeah, love 'em," Griffin turned onto Westchester Boulevard. They weren't too far from her stop now, time had gone by faster than she had expected it to. She was surprised.

"Why?" She leaned her head against the window, head still turned to face him.

"You sound personally offended," he grinned, "they're fun. I like 'em-"

"You said you _love_ them," Kristen interjected.

"Like? Love? Same thing," Griffin said, pulling to a stop in front of the Castello.

"They're definitely not the same thing," Kristen said, "also, you're gonna have to go to the back of the building."

Griffin pulled back onto the street without saying a word and then, "and you know the difference?"

"Yes, I live here and there's a giant sign on one side-"

"I meant your first comment," Griffin chuckled, he ran a hand over his hair. The streetlights shifted on his face, red, yellow, and green. The shadows of his face became more pronounced, the contours of his cheekbones and the sharpness of his jaw looking clearer to her now.

"You literally laugh at everything I say," Kristen narrowed her eyes.

"You're funny," Griffin made a U-Turn and looked behind him.

"I don't mean to be," Kristen watched him warily.

"That's what's funny," he smiled broadly again and then looked back to the road.

Kristen felt a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, she wasn't sure what it was and it was upsetting her that she couldn't peg it. He stopped in the back of the Castello, slowing the car down. He didn't say anything to her, just looked at her and she smiled, her cheeks heating up for no particular reason.

"Thanks," she unbuckled her seatbelt and debated leaning over to hug him like she would the others. She didn't really know what the situation was with Griffin. Nikki always hugged him but that seemed to be an exception. Instead she just nodded at him and threw her hair over her shoulder, pushing open the door.

Griffin nodded back and then as she walked to the building's entrance, he lowered the window and without having to raise his voice much, leaned over and said, "you never told me the difference." He sped away, his laugh filling the air as he left her there, staring into the night.

* * *

 _Dylan's Asshole_

 _claire lyons_ : guys  
 _dylpickle_ : yes?  
 _nikkidicky_ : what's up  
 _claire lyons_ : um, i just had the weirdest fucking encounter with danny robbins?  
 _nikkidicky_ : so like every encounter w him  
 _dylpickle_ : Laughed at 'so like every encounter w him'  
 _claire lyons_ : no! he was so weird! weirder than usual!  
 _nikkidicky_ : what do you mean  
 _clairebear_ : he asked if my friends sent me to his house  
 _clairebear_ : like honest to god wtf  
 _dylpickle_ : weird  
 _nikkidicky_ : when will he quit it w his bizzare-o crap  
 _dylpickle_ : bizzare-o, i like that  
 _dylpickle_ : speaking of things i like...i fucking HATE this group name  
 _nikkidicky_ : well i didn't like the old name  
 _dylpickle_ : nikki dicky is a classic  
 _claire lyons_ : guys, no this is just creepy  
 _dylpickle_ : ok my asshole is not creepy  
 _nikkidicky_ : that's hurtful, kuhlaire  
 _claire lyons_ : i'm talking about danny robbins!  
 _nikkidicky_ : wait, have you guys heard from kris?  
 _dylpickle_ : not since she last texted in the other group  
 _dylpickle_ : also someone tell kemp to shut up before i block him

* * *

It was probably not the most efficient thing for Kristen to be thinking about Griffin Hastings' car when his sister was standing in front of her fuming. There was also a chance that Fawn, notoriously known for being one of the bitchiest girls to have ever walked the halls of Westchester High, would call the cops on Kristen. Granted, Kristen had trespassed on private property and had broken into the home of one of Westchester's most dignified families who also had just lost a son. Lost meaning they genuinely didn't know where he was. Not, Kristen hoped, the other thing.

"Well?" Fawn prompted, she raised an eyebrow, "what the fuck are you doing here?"

"I- um...," Kristen rubbed the back of her neck and offered a sheepish smile. Looking down at her leggings that were now covered in water from the sink. The very sink she had just crawled out of moments earlier and had caused a spillage of pots and pans, to make things that much worse. "I came to get some books I had lent to Griffin."

Fawn stared at her and then snorted, "you're kidding."

"Y-yeah," Kristen laughed awkwardly, "well, I did lend them to him. I need them back. They're rented from the school library and I thought...I thought there would be some kind of clue -"

" _Clue_?" Fawn spat, "what like this is fucking Agatha Christie? Who hired you to be Poirot?"

Kristen blinked, "well, I- it's just I thought-"

"I don't know what you thought but you better explain yourself and cut the crap." Fawn looked like she was not having the best day, perhaps due to the fact that Kristen had crawled through her window like some type of clumsy James Bond.

"The cops," Kristen sighed, "they're coming tomorrow and I thought if I just found something, anything that showed that Griffin was out there-"

"He is out there," Fawn said angrily.

"I- what?" Kristen rubbed the side of her face.

"We don't know where he is but he's not-"

"I wasn't suggesting that," Kristen felt all the blood from her body disappear, rushing through her and then suddenly gone. She felt cold all of a sudden and there was something like a rock in the pit of her stomach. She had never even entertained that thought, she didn't think she could bear it. "I just meant that he ran away or something and that maybe he left behind some kind of evidence of it. I just want to know."

Fawn blinked and then narrowed her eyes, "why you?"

Kristen felt the words catch in her throat.

"We're friends," Kristen said meekly.

"Barely."

She wasn't _wrong_.

"Yeah, barely, but I've known him since I was eight years old, that counts for something. We were friends, even if we weren't that close." This was all true. Kristen wasn't lying to Fawn, yet she still felt as if Fawn was reading her mind, like she knew more than she was letting on. It seemed everyone was giving off that same feeling these days. Like they all had skeletons in their closet they were trying to hide.

"Fine. You can leave." Fawn pointed behind her, "out the front door."

Kristen nodded and began walking out, she could feel Fawn's eyes on her. "What about the books?" Kristen asked, turning around to face Fawn. "They're probably the only school books Griffin has." Kristen tried to force a smile but Fawn didn't reciprocate.

"I'll give them to Sammi to take to school tomorrow."

"You're not going?" Kristen asked. She knew it was a stupid question the moment the words left her mouth.

Fawn laughed maniacally, it reminded Kristen a lot of Griffin. "Yeah, because I want to be there when they interrogate the entire student body about my brother's whereabouts. No thanks. I've already done my part."

Kristen just nodded and continued her path. Fawn was no longer following her and the Hastings' home was nearly pitch black. Most of the lights off. The rich woods of the house making everything that much darker. The only room with the light on was the sitting room that Fawn had apparently been in. The soft glow of the single light was almost flickering.

There were large portraits of the family. Fawn and Griffin and their youngest brother, who was still in elementary school. Then individual ones and one of the entire family, parents and all. Kristen's eyes gravitated to the one of Griffin. He was wearing a red sweater and looked a lot more groomed than usual, but still there was that look on his face. If you studied it enough you could see all the things that made him Griffin Hastings. The tattoo poking out of his collar, the confident way he was sitting, almost like he was leaning forward, and the slight curl of his lips. It sent chills down her spine.

She broke eye contact with the picture and continued on her way. Her heart pounding in her chest.

It felt like Griffin's eyes were following her.

"I don't trust you, by the way." Fawn called from the kitchen, just as Kristen had reached the door. She said nothing as a response and went outside before Fawn Hastings had time to put things together.

* * *

 _Dylan's Asshole_

 _kristmasgregory_ : Hey.  
 _nikkidicky_ : there she is!  
 _nikkidicky_ : i've been worried sick about you all day, young lady  
 _dylpickle_ : u know better than to just disappear!  
 _nikkidicky_ : too soon  
 _dylpickle_ : sry i didnt mean it like that :/  
 _kristmasgregory_ : Did Fawn and Sammi go to the Back to School Bash?  
 _dylpickle_ : i thought it's the back to school banger  
 _nikkidicky_ : didn't realize it even had a name  
 _nikkidicky_ : thought it was just danny's annual compensation party  
 _claire lyons_ : no they didn't  
 _claire lyons_ : they went into the city to visit pat and harry!  
 _claire lyons_ : harris** dammit  
 _claire lyons_ : dyl, didn't the twins go too?  
 _dylpickle_ : idk probably  
 _kristmasgregory_ : Okay, thanks.  
 _nikkidicky_ : wow  
 _dylpickle_ : thanks for the context  
 _claire lyons_ : are none of you worried about tomorrow?  
 _nikkidicky_ : nah  
 _nikkidicky_ : speaking of harris, who wants to see an embarrassing photo?  
 _dylpickle_ : me, always

* * *

Author's Note: It's been a really long time since I last updated. I just didn't know what to do with this chapter! But here it is. The next one will be more of the questioning. Then the one after will probably be the White Party.


	4. damned

_A/N:_ I didn't think it would take 2 months but here it is. I have apparently written over 800k words for this story that I haven't put into any chapter yet, according to Pages, so that's something. This is kind of a long one. We're finally getting to the good stuff, so sit tight.

* * *

 _damned. _

_nikki dalton_ : are anyone else's parents just driving them crazy rn with this stupid party planning  
 _kemp hurley_ : the planning committee takes these things very seriously ok nikki  
 _kemp hurley_ : wouldn't expect you to understand  
 _kemp hurley_ : plebeian  
 _nikki dalton_ : i literally fucking hate you  
 _dylan marvil_ : Laughed at 'plebeian'  
 _derrick harrington_ : Loved 'i literally fucking hate you'  
 _dylan marvil_ : merri-lee won't stop talking about the different shades of white  
 _cam fisher_ : pamela says merri-lee is colorblind #tea  
 _derrick harrington_ : anna thinks lindy is messing up the color scheme  
 _nikki dalton_ : Loved 'anna thinks lindy is messing up the color scheme'  
 _claire lyons_ : guys, be nice. they're doing their best.  
 _james wright_ : ok but like it's a white party. how hard is it...  
 _nikki dalton_ : THANK YOU! like it's fucking WHITE you just have to find stuff that's WHITE i don't understand  
 _kemp hurley_ : your plebeian eyes cannot see the differences. only artistes like me can  
 _derrick harrington_ : ya the way you draw dicks on restroom walls is so artistic  
 _chris plov_ : Loved 'ya the way you draw dicks on restroom walls is so artistic'  
 _james wright_ : i think jay told marsha she isn't putting in enough effort  
 _james wright_ : according to janet  
 _kristen gregory_ : Harsh. But confirmed.  
 _derrick harrington_ : clay thinks judi is the reason jay acts out  
 _claire lyons_ : clay isn't wrong

* * *

Dylan was walking to the kitchen to find any morsel of a snack that was available when she heard her mom loudly speaking on the phone. Usually when Merri-Lee handled any sort of business call, it was in her office with the door locked, this piqued Dylan's interest to one, even see her mother at home and two, to see her pacing the floor of their sitting room with a look of deep concern.

"-yes, yes...I see," Merri-Lee scratched the back of her neck and walked to the double doors that led outside to the terrace. She opened them to let in air and stood there sighing, "well, you know they were close. Thick as thieves. I can only imagine how she's feeling...the twins are okay, a little quieter than usual but nothing else...I don't think sending them to Pheonix is going to help, Ralph." This last line was delivered with conviction and laced with irritation, which was more typical of Merri-Lee's conversations with her ex-husband. "Thanks for the advice...yes, I'll keep you updated."

Dylan tip-toed away before her mom could turn around, sliding across the marble floors to the hallway and slinked behind the powder room door before Merri-Lee noticed. Her mother only ever called her dad when she needed legal advice, and nothing more.

 _dylan marvil_ : uhhhh i think my mom just asked my dad for legal advice?  
 _nikki_ : is that weird? LOL  
 _nikki_ : btw wanna get sushi rn  
 _dylan marvil_ : ya to both  
 _nikki_ : elaborate pls

Dylan did not have time to elaborate because her mother opened the door, "Dylan?" Dylan coughed and flushed the toilet, dropping her phone as she clambered for the faucet.

"Oh!" She turned over her shoulder as she washed her hands. "Sorry, I forgot to lock the door."

If her mom found this odd, she didn't press on, "well, I just got off the phone with your father."

"How's he doing?" Dylan dried her hands on one of the Egyptian cotton towels her mother had placed by the sink. "Please tell me he didn't change Thanksgiving to grandma's, cause Scottsdale is one thing but River Oaks-"

"No, no," Merri-Lee shook her head, "we spoke about Griffin." Dylan felt her stomach lurch at the mention of Griffin's name. She coughed again to cover any sign of discomfort at the mention. "You might not have to answer anything tomorrow," Merri-Lee continued, making earnest eye contact with Dylan, as if this was some sort of favor. "I was going to call the other parents and let them know-"

"What are you even saying?" Dylan huffed.

"We're all friends, you know that." Merri-Lee answered this question with the same irritated voice she had used with Ralph. Dylan always reminded Merri-Lee of him, and this always showed. "We do all of our charity work together. Plus the country club board-"

"I know, I know." Dylan tried not to roll her eyes, "but we were just going to answer honestly. We want to help them however we can."

Merri-Lee paused for a moment, not saying a word, and then pursed her lips together, "Dylan, if you know anything at all-"

"I don't!" Dylan exclaimed, stomping her foot out of frustration, "if I knew why he was gone I would have said something! I want to find him. He was one of my best friends-"

Merri-Lee looked taken aback but then nodded, carefully reaching out to pat Dylan's shoulder awkwardly (she was always so much better at faking sympathy on TV), "I know it's hard but we know best, okay? We don't need anything incriminating to happen, even if it's not true. I'm going to call Lindy and then we can talk, okay? Maybe dinner."

Dylan shook her head, she couldn't even think about eating anymore, "I promised Nikki I'd do dinner with her."

"You can invite her here!" She said this as if it was some brilliant, wonderful cute little DIY home inspo she was presenting on her talk show. "We can order in, the twins will be home-"

"I can't. We were going to go to Derrick's," she lied quickly. Besides, they all knew to cover for one another, even if Derrick's mom told hers that there were no dinner plans, Derrick would know to lie. That was just how things worked between them all.

"Derrick?" Merri-Lee asked, smiling, "well-"

"Ew, mom," Dylan shook her head, "stop."

"He isn't still with that Maisie girl, is he?" She made an expression as if she had just thought of something utterly foul. "Why Anna and Clay let him be with her and behave like that-"

"Mom," Dylan said sternly, now more than ever aware that she was standing in their powder room, "stop. Massie is a... _nice_ person." She tried not to make it seem like it pained her to say that. Her mother shook her head and walked away.

"I cannot say the same for her mother," Merri-Lee shook her head, "but if Jay likes them…"

Dylan stopped listening to her mother's endless tirades and exited the bathroom. Her mind was now clouded with a new worry and a new feeling of upset that she had pushed down for longer than she had liked to admit.

She went up the stairs to her room, glancing behind her to see if her mother was anywhere by her, and dialed a number into her phone she didn't need to think too deeply about.

"Hey!" Dylan said, taking the stairs two by two, "you're not like tutoring or something right now, right?"

"No," Kristen replied. She seemed concerned by something and distracted, and Dylan almost hung up, scared to continue with what she was planning to say. "What's up?"

"Um, okay, sorry this is such a weird dilemma," Dylan walked into her room and locked the door, sinking to the ground and placing her head in her hand, "I did something pretty stupid."

"How so?" Kristen asked, she sounded out of breath.

"Where are you?" Dylan asked, "you disappeared like all night."

"Studying, errands for my mom, you know, the works." Kristen replied, "you have to tell me about what you were saying, there's no way you're just getting away with leaving me hanging like that."

"Fine, but you have to give me context on why you asked about Fawn and Sammi-"

Kristen laughed, "um, you're the one who called _me_ for advice, remember?"

"Who said it was for advice?" Dylan bit back, "what if I was just confessing or venting-"

"So are you going to tell me or not?" Kristen asked. She sounded a little calmer than she had at first but Dylan ignored that. Kristen's mom always stressed her out. It was very relatable.

"Okay, okay, but you can't tell a soul. _Especially_ not Nikki." Before Kristen could interject, Dylan continued, "I swear. I know you two literally can't keep a secret from each other longer than it takes a fucking phone to ring, but it'll be worse if you tell her, okay?"

There was silence on the other side for a moment before Kristen spoke again, "okay, shoot."

This was as good as confirmation coming from Kristen.

"Alright, last April I kind of hooked up with Griffin." There was the sound of something clattering on the other line. Then silence. Dylan squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that Kristen had not just hung up on her to go tell Nikki. She had not expected this response either, which was why she had chosen Kristen as her confidante over the other two. Kristen was not judgmental, at least not out loud. She kept to herself and she only ever told you what you already knew. Besides, she was the only one of the four of them that was not deeply close to Griffin. Even Claire knew him better. "Hello?"

There was the sound of Kristen breathing into the phone and then she replied, "I dropped my phone, my cat jumped on my lap." Dylan could have sworn that Kristen was outdoors but couldn't think of any reason for her to have been lying anyway.

"Your voice sounds weird," Dylan added. She was being paranoid, she knew this, but Kristen's voice sounded far away and almost like it was breaking.

"It's cause I dropped my phone," Kristen sniffed, "ugh, I think I cracked the screen. Fuck."

"Oh," Dylan said, "uh, do you want me to call back?"

"No! No, you're fine, sorry." Kristen said, "um, but what do you mean you hooked up with him?"

"Well, we're not twelve," Dylan responded, "but we never talked about it again. It was really stupid but god, Kris. I just can't get him out of my head."

"I know what you mean," Kristen said, "I mean, this whole thing is really consuming."

Dylan bit her lip, she wasn't sure if she should have clarified further to Kristen why exactly they were not experiencing the same situation. She thought better of it but then changed her mind again. She was never good at keeping things to herself, "after I realized that the whole J.T. thing was a bust, I just...well, I was crushing hard on Griffin. God, it was so embarrassing, I thought you all knew-"

"I thought it was kind of a joke," Kristen's voice sounded small.

"No, I wish." Dylan crossed her arms over her chest and balanced her phone on her shoulder, "this is the worst way of getting over a crush ever. I just knew I should have said something to him but now...now I feel like I won't ever get the chance."

Kristen sniffed again on the other line, "um, wait, I'm so sorry, Dylan. Like about all of that but uh," she paused and spoke again, "I really, wow, uh, sorry, sorry. I just have to go, my mom won't stop calling me. We can talk later, okay?"

Dylan looked at the screen of her phone in confusion when Kristen hung up. She seemed preoccupied and unwilling to listen. Kristen was by far the only one who listened selflessly, Dylan had been pretty guilty of taking advantage of that. But this was weird.

Or was it?

There was something utterly bewitching about being Griffin's friend. When he texted you, it gave you a similar exhilaration to a crush texting you. The sweaty palms, the lip biting to hold back a smile. You wanted the conversation to continue, you wanted to be engaging enough that he would keep going. Seeing those three dots from him was a godsend (unless they disappeared, but it was rare that Griffin started to say something and stopped himself).

Dylan knew how intoxicating it was and she knew she was not alone. They all felt that way. She'd seen it in their eyes when he liked a message of theirs or replied to a Tweet or commented on a photo or laughed at a joke of theirs. They lit up. They craved his attention and affection more than anything else.

Which was why it was hard for her to realize when her crush on him had even begun because didn't they all, in some twisted way, have a crush on him? Weren't they all infatuated with him?

Dylan groaned into her hands, after tossing her phone on the carpet. She was actually an idiot for ever breaking the number one, unwritten rule of their friendship with Griffin Hastings, which was never feel anything for him at all that wasn't platonic. It would lead you to the gallows quicker than anything else. It would end you. This was sure poison. It was also just straight up annoying to her that she cared more about this dumb crush than the fact that she was going to lie to the police through her teeth the next morning...or well actually not because Merri-Lee was some sort of mafia boss, who had found a loophole for them all.

Not to mention she was still failing Calculus.

* * *

Massie rang the bell to the Harrington estate and rocked back and forth on her heels while she waited for someone to answer the door. It took longer than it usually did and she glanced behind her to see if anyone was coming in through the gates. Sighing, she stared up at the structure of the house. The Harringtons lived in a typical North Westchester home, not that they all matched in any way, but simply that they all had a grand, palatial style of architecture. The house looked like you could get lost in it for days or weeks at a time. It was a warm beige, and Massie was well aware that the backyard was Spanish inspired with electric blue tiled pools and cacti that did not belong anywhere near New York. Derrick's mom was on a new kick of renovating the house. Massie didn't like to think about how much it probably cost them to maintain it.

"Massie!" Sammi Harrington threw open the door and grinned, "haven't seen you in a while." She smiled rather knowingly and then gestured for Massie to enter, "I think Derrick's in the gym." She had a hand over the receiver of her cell phone, like she was in the middle of a call.

Massie nodded. Sammi was awfully intimidating and would probably remain that way in Massie's eyes for the rest of their lives. Sammi was slender, blonder than her brothers and had piercing blue eyes. When she smiled it seemed like she always knew something you didn't and she had an impeccable sense of humor that made Massie feel rather inadequate in comparison. She was also the target of affection for what most Westchester girls considered the hottest guy to have ever walked WH's halls - Harris Fisher. She also happened to be one half of Westchester's dynamic duo with Fawn Hastings. In other words, she scared Massie shitless.

"Thanks," Massie said, smiling tightly at Sammi, and walking toward the stairs.

"Go easy on him, he's in a rather broody mood," Sammi laughed, retreating to whatever part of the house she had come from, going back to giggling into her phone, "no, shut up. Do _not_ watch the next episode until I come to visit."

Massie quickly darted up the stairs, not wanting to be in Sammi's presence any longer than she had to. If Massie were to be a hundred percent honest with herself she would have admitted that Sammi Harrington was not the only intimidating part of dating Derrick. Derrick's entire life could be kind of suffocating in a way that Massie wasn't necessarily fond of. She hadn't ever been the type of person to plan her life out, but Derricks' entire life had been mapped out for him. He would be in leadership, be the captain of the soccer team, graduate and go onto an Ivy League, get married and settle back in Westchester. She had never known exactly where she fit into this master plan but Derrick had always assured her that it was more of a suggestion than a map with a set course - _whatever that meant_.

Then there were his friends...while she had adopted them as her own, she couldn't be sure where she stood and half of her just didn't really care. She could see how hard Alicia wanted them to accept her but something always made Massie feel like they never would and maybe that was okay.

The first time Derrick had even approached her, Massie had thought he was walking over to talk to Alicia. Alicia was beautiful and every guy the two of them had ever spoken to always preferred her.

She and Alicia had both been new students in the eighth grade, both from separate schools in the city who had some loosely connected mutual friends. They had hit it off immediately but Massie, at the age of 13, had been insecure in comparison to Alicia who looked like she could have been printed on the cover of _TeenVogue_ \- or at least that's how 13-year-old Massie felt about 13-year-old Alicia.

Derrick, who had always sat next to James in their science class, had walked over and asked if he could be her partner for an assignment. Massie had been at a loss for words until Alicia had agreed for her. James had then waved Alicia over like this had been a burgeoning plan of Derrick's for a while and James had already mastered how to make it work without Massie even asking what would become of Leesh. From then on, they had spent the rest of the year smiling at each other from across the hallways, texting occasionally and sitting next to each other in the classes they shared. Freshman year he had asked her out and since then they had been an item, and it had been working. She liked it, she liked _him_ and that's all she could have asked for.

His friends were just a perk. Kinda.

Then things had taken an absolute turn for the worst. She should have seen it coming, probably from miles away. Probably since she was first in close enough distance to smell Griffin Hastings' Clive Christian No. 1 cologne. _Really, who even paid that much for cologne?_

Griffin fuckin' Hastings, as he was commonly referred to, was someone she should not have counted out so easily. No, that had been her mistake and it would sit with her for the rest of her life. Griffin wasn't a wildcard. His predictability came from the fact that you could so effortlessly label him as a wildcard. He didn't do what most people did. He was Westchester born and bred. He expected everything to be handed to him, _always_. He wasn't just another cliché, rich boy with a rebellious streak. There was something about Griffin Hastings that wasn't so typical but menacing instead.

Massie should have known.

Of course, she had been swept away in Griffin's bubble too. She had written him off as harmless because she was enamored by him. They all were. That's why they stuck around. It wasn't so much in their words, but their actions. They respected Griffin like they did not respect anyone else. He was, in a twisted way, their god. If Griffin said something, it was law. If Griffin didn't like something, it was gone. They put up a front of being normal bickering friends with him, but the moment he disagreed to a point of his own discomfort, it would never be mentioned again.

Maybe that was the magic of Griffin Hastings. He tricked you into believing you were his equal, that he loved and cared for you. Maybe he did. She wouldn't know, she couldn't read him and she honestly believed no one actually could.

He was in so many ways, chaos personified. He thrived off of goading people into conflict, into cruelly asking for things just to watch them play out. And yet they treasured him, all of them, in their own ways...and now he was just... _not there_.

But Massie had broken out of the trance much quicker than the rest, the moment things had started to take a turn south, she had recognized that maybe Griffin Hastings was a lot more sinister than they believed. She couldn't tell if she had come to this conclusion first or if maybe the others felt it too and maybe she was generalizing.

Griffin let very, _very_ few people into his inner circle which consisted only of Derrick, James, Josh, Cam, Nikki and Dylan (when her head wasn't wedged in her own ass). It was because of this very thing that Massie used to lay awake at night measuring the current state of her life. She found it very plausible that Derrick would always choose Griffin over her. No matter what. Maybe all these negative feelings toward Griffin were just a manifestation of that one feeling.

There were far too many maybes for her liking.

"Mass?" Derrick was in the hallway, staring at her curiously. He pushed his wet hair off his forehead, adjusting the towel around his waist. It looked like he had just taken a shower after his afternoon workout, "what are you doing here?"

"What? I'm suddenly not allowed to show up unannounced?" Massie crossed her arms over her chest.

Derrick smiled with ease, "Of course you are, I just thought you were still dodging me."

"I am."

"So you appeared in my home? To avoid me?" Derrick raised an eyebrow.

"No, I'm still very much avoiding you." Massie cleared her throat and stared pointedly at him, she tried to maintain eye contact and not look anywhere else, it was proving to be more difficult than she thought.

"Well, you're doing a pretty shitty job of it since you're one, in my house and two, you've been sitting with me at lunch," Derrick stifled a laugh.

"I came here to ask you some questions, I just needed some clarification." Derrick blinked, "it's about everything that's been going on." Derrick looked around the hall and then tilted his head to gesture for her to follow him back to his room. "Also what, are you just walking around your house in a towel now?"

"I was going to get water," Derrick shut the door behind her and she walked in, gently sitting on his bed.

"Your thirst couldn't wait until you put your clothes on?"

"Hey, it's _my_ house! If I wanna walk around without anything on, I should be able to. Besides, I didn't know you were coming," Derrick walked into his closet and then leaned his head out, smirking broadly, "and may I add, it's nothing you haven't already seen."

Massie threw one of the pillows on his bed at his head but he ducked back into the closet before it could touch him. When he reappeared, he had put on a pair of boxers and basketball shorts. Massie rolled her eyes.

"Are you ready yet, Princess?"

Derrick scoffed, "I am _not_ a princess," he walked into his bathroom and grabbed a comb before coming back in the room, combing his hair back, now with boxers on, "I'm a _queen_."

Massie bit her lip to keep from laughing, "are you not going to put a shirt on?"

Derrick looked down like he had forgotten he was still shirtless, "it's hot," he responded matter-of-factly. Then he winked, "both literally and figuratively."

"Jesus," Massie groaned, covering her face with her hands, "it's _distracting,_ is what it is."

"Oh, really?" Derrick approached her, leaning forward and she fell back onto the bed, crawling away from him. He laughed and stood up straight again.

"No, not now. Not until you answer my questions _honestly_." She sat back up, and kicked her shoes off, proceeding to sit criss-cross on his bed.

"Until?" Derrick wagged his eyebrows.

"Oh my god, can you stop being a pervert for one minute and just listen to my questions?" Derrick made a show of sighing and then sat on the foot of the bed. "No," Massie pointed to his desk, "go sit over there."

Derrick pouted but got up, walking to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down and then leaned on his elbows, his face in his hands, "how can I help you? I have practice in two hours by the way." His eyes flittered to the clock on the wall and then back to her.

"It won't take too long," Massie took a deep breath, "okay, what the hell is happening?"

Derrick pinched the bridge of his nose, "I have no clue."

"Where's Griffin?" Massie asked. It was a straight forward question but she needed to know if he knew the answer, it had been eating at her since the cops had arrived at school.

"I don't know," Derrick shook his head, looking down at his feet.

"Honestly?" If he was avoiding eye contact she had a bad feeling that he was probably lying.

He looked up at her and nodded solemnly, "I swear, I have no idea where he is. I wish I did," he sighed.

Massie picked at his comforter. He seemed like he was being honest and a partial part of the weight on her shoulders was lifted. He wasn't lying to her...about _that_ at least.

"About what happened at Danny's-"

"I didn't know," Derrick's voice sounded like it was almost cracking, "I just...I didn't expect that. I wouldn't have taken you there if I had known."

"Well, you told me about it all before," Massie pointed out. She wasn't going to let him get away with this sad and fake-guilty act. He had involved her long before she had been witness to anything. "Why'd you ever tell me?"

"I didn't want to lie to you," he bit his bottom lip and shook his head, "but I guess that was a dumb reason. It's all over now though. I promise...I'm sorry, Mass. I _really_ am."

Massie looked up at the ceiling, she was not going to start angry crying in her boyfriend's room on a Tuesday afternoon, "I don't get it. Do you know what position you put me in by telling me? What if I didn't want to know?"

"I know, I wasn't thinking," he shook his head again, "I wish I could take it back but I thought you'd figure it out and I didn't ever want you to think I was lying to you."

"I think this qualifies as worse than lying," Massie laughed hoarsely, "but I guess you're right."

There was a moment of silence and the sun shifted, the shadows in the room becoming more prominent. She knew he was right, in some capacity but she just wished that things had gone differently. It had seemed so harmless when he had first told her. Like something that wouldn't matter in a few years time, just a blip in the past. She was stupid, she knew. She loved him too much to ever call him out on his mistakes and _maybe_ \- actually, no, _this_ was her biggest mistake.

"Is that all you wanted to know?" Derrick asked carefully. "I'll tell you anything you want," he must have realized the internal conflict Massie was going through. His voice made it seem like he was starting to truly understand how deep this ran. If things weren't fixed now, things would never go back to normal between them and neither of them wanted that, she knew that much.

"Um, why didn't the cops come sooner?" Massie scooted to the side of the bed that was closer to the desk.

Derrick paused, "the Hastingses...I think they were expecting that he'd come home." He looked down at his hands again, "when he didn't...I mean it's been a month and they haven't heard anything, _so_."

"Oh," Massie scratched her neck. "I'm sorry."

Derrick looked up at her, his eyebrows scrunching together in an adorable manner (Massie hated herself for thinking it), "what are you sorry for?"

"I mean he was one of your best friends and he's... _gone_ ," Massie studied his face carefully when the words left her mouth.

Derrick didn't respond. He scratched his head, leaned back in the chair, and then forward, and then coughed. He had always been bad at handling his emotions and this was perhaps harder on him than Massie had expected. She felt stupid for thinking he'd be fine. She felt worse for having abandoned him at a time that was clearly difficult for him.

"I don't really...I mean I'd rather not think about it," he got up, "never got that water," he smiled at her in a forced manner and Massie felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. "You want anything?"

Massie shook her head 'no' and Derrick left the room, the door not shutting entirely. She plopped into the pillows face first and then turned back around to face the ceiling. _Why did things with Derrick have to be so awkward?_ They had never been like this before and it was ruining her even if she wasn't letting it on.

His iPhone pinged on his bedside table and Massie ignored it, turning on her side.

Then it pinged again.

And again.

...and _again_.

Sitting up, she reached over to turn the volume off.

She glanced at the screen questioningly.

 _lyons_ (6 new messages)

And then beneath it a series of text messages from a group message titled with the devil emoji. Massie was well aware that this was the group message without her and Alicia. As much as Derrick had persisted there be one with the two of them, this one had trumped the other. She'd noticed it from the times they hung out and it would pop up. Derrick had tried to say that maybe everyone forgot they weren't in that message, or that they were just used to writing in this one and not the one with Massie and Alicia. It hadn't been convincing.

 _cammyboy_ (12 new messages)

 _dalton_ (10 new messages)

 _hurley_ (10 new messages)

 _marvil_ (7 new messages)

 _lyons_ (4 new messages)

 _hotz_ (1 new message)

Massie peered at the door and then scrolled down. She bit down on her bottom teeth, her jaw clenching. She was attempting to hold back anger at seeing the messages beneath those from a separate group text message.

 _dalton_ (3 new messages)

 _cammyboy_ (2 new messages)

 _wright_ (5 new messages)

 _hotz_ (2 new messages)

Before Massie could try to unlock his phone, she heard Derrick walking down the hall, she placed the phone back on the nightstand and sat up. Quickly, she leapt off his bed and toward his desk, picking up her backpack from the ground. Swiftly, she opened the second drawer to the top and stuffed something into her backpack.

Derrick opened the door and she leaned against his desk, brushing her hair away from her face.

"I forgot to ask," Derrick said in a more cheerful voice as he pushed the door open, "my mom wanted to know if you could come to dinner with us for her birthday in two weeks, probably in the city so we can meet up with Patrick...Massie?"

Massie grabbed her backpack and went to put her shoes on, "yeah, I'll check and let you know."

"Where are you going?"

"I told my parents I'd be home by now," as she attempted to slide past him he grabbed her arm gently and stared at her, narrowing his eyes, "I'm fine, Derrick. I just have to go. I'm serious, you know how my mom is about being late."

"Okay...see you tomorrow, I guess?" He let go of her arm, still looking at her oddly. She wanted to stay. Well a small, tiny part of her, but that was kind of always the case when she was with Derrick. Part of her never wanted to leave.

" _Mhm_ ," she said as best as she could before, kissing his cheek and storming out of his house with more anger than she had felt in the past few weeks put together. She made sure not to look him in the eyes at any point because she was certain she'd just fall into his trap again. Like always.

She drove home without any music on, speeding out of the Harringtons' property without so much as looking back.

He had lied to her.

Tears of frustration sprung from her eyes. She didn't know what she was expecting. She should have known better.

All she could think about was his phone screen and the group message she had seen. How could she even tell him she had been looking at his phone? He'd be broken if he knew she didn't trust him but then again he had lied. He had broken _her_ trust.

She looked in the rearview mirror at her backpack.

She felt a sudden guilt wash over her.

Derrick never used his old laptop. He wouldn't even notice if it was gone and she'd put it back before he could get the chance to miss it.

She thought about turning back around and coming clean but then she reminded herself of why she had taken it in the first place and she sped up. She needed to get home.

* * *

Kristen remembered their second outing clearly. Griffin had offered to take her home again. It had been normal. She had sat there and they had talked again until he had asked if she had a particular time she needed to get home. She had said no, but it had been a lie. _So what if her mom had to wait a little longer?_ He'd then gone to Nino's and they'd sat in the parking lot for maybe a little longer than normal until he finished his fries.

The second time had been the same. Except this time they had sat at the back entrance of the Castello discussing the inherent differences in DC movies versus Marvel movies. They had come to the clear conclusion that while DC had the better universe, Marvel movies got it right. She had gone to bed that night with a smile on her face and she didn't know why ( _she did_ ).

The third time he had offered, it went by quicker. They'd done their usual conversation but he didn't linger long when he dropped her off. Weeks went by before it happened again, she'd catch him looking at her from across the room sometimes but she wasn't sure if she had imagined it. She felt awkward suddenly, like maybe he'd gotten bored of her and maybe he had decided she wasn't that great to be around after all. The thought of it made her nauseous. To lose Griffin's interest was something the others had only ever skittered around, the feeling of having someone like that's attention, only to lose it, was a cut so deep. He had a way of making it feel like nothing else mattered but you and to lose that made Kristen feel empty. She had even felt, _it was probably a stupid feeling too_ , that this was different. That he talked to her so freely in a way that maybe no one else got to witness.

Finally, she'd gone up to him at a party once, liquor coursing through her and she'd leaned over and asked if he would take her home. He seemed taken aback for a moment, but agreed with ease. She wondered if he was surprised often or if he just didn't like letting it show.

That ride had gone normally again, conversation wise, but her palms were itching with sweat and the air was thick with a sort of uneasiness between them. She didn't know what to make of it and she felt stupid, _naturally_.

 _What was she thinking?_

Griffin Hastings was not the type of guy you had a crush on. It was not a normal thing to do. It was something that she should have avoided at all costs. She, Nikki, Dylan and Claire had spent many sleepovers cracking up over the girls who had been dumb enough to go after Griffin. She was obviously going through some type of weird rebellious streak.

And then she had let it slip, like an idiot. As if she hadn't done enough already. She told him.

( _It was definitely that 5th shot of tequila_ )

"Griffin, I-I have a crush on you."

 _A crush._

She said she had a _crush_ on him.

Like she was five years old.

His body had tensed and she felt more foolish than she ever had. And then she realized the reason he had become so stoic was because he was trying to hold back laughter. He wanted to _laugh_ at her. He thought it was _funny_. She felt her cheeks become increasingly red. Griffin let out a light, airy chuckle that she could tell was his attempt at not bursting into a fit of laughter. He cleared his throat and pressed his lips together.

He did not glance over at her. Instead he put a hand in front of his mouth, as he rested his elbow on his side door.

Kristen didn't know what to say and then Griffin had pulled over on the side of the road. He was staring straight ahead still, like he was trying to regain composure.

 _Did he want her to get out?_

Was it _that_ funny that he couldn't drive thinking about it?

He turned to her, tilted his head and bit back a smirk. He watched her for a moment as she sat there completely flustered and then clicked his seatbelt, causing it to pull back with such force that it hit the window. He stared at her for a moment longer and then leaned across and kissed her more gently than she had ever been kissed in her life. She had been completely frozen as his hand reached up to her face. His thumb was caressing her cheek and all she could think was _oh, so this is what kissing Griffin Hastings is like_. His lips were so soft and she could feel his smile against her mouth. Her heart was beating erratically in her chest and all she wanted was more of this, of _him_. She never could have imagined how this felt. It was something like burning on her lips but so affectionate. She couldn't think of a single feeling that compared.

When he pulled away from her he was still holding her face in his hands, "I have a crush on you too."

And then he laughed.

* * *

If he had to be honest, James didn't really care for the gossip his mother shared at the dinner table every night. Westchester gossip was always the exact same. Someone married someone they shouldn't have (the issue was always money or status or both), someone bought something distasteful (either gaudy or too cheap) and someone else was showing off about something (usually a child at an Ivy League or some fake philanthropy event that really didn't entail much). However, since the disappearance of what most would call James' closest friend, he paid more apt attention to the bullshit his mom discussed at dinner time. He wanted to know exactly what had been circulating around Westchester society and since August 11th, it had all been mainly about Griffin.

Well, that and the White Party, _because they were clearly of equal importance._

"Lindy Dalton was absolutely right about the colors," his mother, Janet, continued, in her now softened British accent. His stepdad, Alan, nodded his head like any of this made sense. "We want muted colors because of the theme-"

"White," James added. His mother shot him a stern glance and proceeded. He wasn't sure exactly what 'colors' Nikki's mom had chosen or how groundbreaking they could have been seeing that everything was supposed to be one color - _white_.

"She uh, she chose the eggshell with the blush undertone, right?" Alan asked. To be sure of this he looked at James who smiled and nodded undetectably. They had a sort of system going with that.

Alan and Janet, like the rest of his friends' parents were part of the Westchester Country Club's board, some as members and some with positions. Either way, they all took it far too seriously. Including his own mother who was deeply obsessed with her role as secretary, more so than her actual job as the CEO of a development company. He sometimes thought she forgot she had another job.

"I don't like eggs," his little sister cooed. His younger brother hit her with a spoon as a response and James sighed. His youngest sister then screamed with laughter like this was all hilarious, while his other sister's lip began quivering as if she would be crying at any moment, and James thought, only fleetingly, that the dinner table was too crowded. Yet, he still wished his eldest sister had been there. _Anyone to share the burden with._

"Hush," his mom said, glaring, "how many times do we have to go over this? No screaming or hitting at the table."

"Or anywhere," his stepdad added. James snorted. "Have you heard anything from the Hastingses?"

James carefully stabbed a carrot on his plate, avoiding any sort of eye contact with his mother, who could always see right through him.

"Nothing really. Marsha said Judi told her that Heather and Blaise were thinking of attending the party. I mean after everything Heather did for it. All the planning, the logistics - she is after all the _head_ of the whole board. It would be such a shame for her to miss it."

James looked up at his mother and raised an eyebrow, she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, warning him to watch whatever it was he was about to say. She always caught him before he said something sarcastic and cold. Which was probably much of the reason other people thought he didn't have a single mean bone in his body. Probably because if Janet had it her way, she would have broken it tenfold.

"It would probably be nice for them to have something to look forward to. A distraction." Alan said, shrugging.

"Speaking of which," Janet added, looking at James, "sweetheart, Merri-Lee spoke with Ralph and Len." James stopped chewing to pause and look at his mother.

"Do I have a DUI I'm unaware of?" He joked. Janet suppressed an eyeroll and Alan chuckled. Usually she would have laughed. "Sorry," he added. "Continue."

"I don't need your permission to continue," Janet said pointedly. James held his tongue from trying to even make amends. He knew that would probably just make his mom angrier. "Anyway, you're exempt from the questioning tomorrow. But you're still to attend all of your classes."

James tried not to look too surprised, "why? I mean, I have nothing to hide."

Janet looked at him like she was measuring him up for a moment. As if she was able to analyze every moment of his life and was now coming to a decision about her son. He hated when she gave him that look.

"It's not about hiding anything per se," Alan added, wiping his mouth on his napkin, "I see this kind of thing all the time." James would have replied curtly with _'oh, in investment banking?'_ but he held back. "It's just a precaution. You know all of you kids are going to probably see this 'til the end and it's repetitive. You already answered questions."

"But those were just preliminary," James stated, scooting forward in his seat, "I mean, wouldn't they want to know more? I'm game for it." He wasn't.

They'd already gone through the stupid question and answer routine the morning after it had all happened. For some reason it had gone beautifully, no single chink in the armor. They'd have to thank their parents, or Westchester really, for being such great liars. It was second tongue.

"We know best," Janet said, she looked at her other three children who were sticking their tongues out at each other and tossing broccoli back and forth. "We'll talk about this _after_ dinner." She paused thoughtfully and then continued, "you know who I ran into the other day?"

"Who?" James asked in a sedated voice. He knew exactly what was coming with this.

"I saw Nicole and Lindy at the farmer's market," she cut a piece of chicken into a perfect square and then raised her eyes to her son's face. His mom and him had a tiresome relationship. Mainly because while they were extremely close, they were also nothing alike and she still insisted on there being a barrier of deep respect. Everyone else thought she was a funny, easygoing woman, but James was well aware how much practice that actually took her.

"Lindy?" Alan expressed surprise as he reached for the potatoes, "I'm surprised she's found time to be home. That poor girl raised herself," Alan said this like it was half a joke but James still had to try his best to pretend that this did not, by any means, bother him. He bit the inside of his cheek and ran a hand through his hair.

"Who has the time?" Janet persisted, "we can't all have jobs close by. There's a sacrifice that's to be made. And she turned out perfectly fine." She paused, "Not as well as her brothers-"

James couldn't help himself, "maybe because their parents were around more when they were growing up." He shrugged, "just a thought," and he stuffed his face with whatever was left on his plate in a manner that was sure to irritate his mother.

"The Fishers are just around the corner-"

"She's always welcome here," important establishments had clearly slipped Alan's mind as he bumbled around for more food on the table. James watched him with a deadpan stare.

" _Nikkiiiiiii_ ," his little sister cooed, giggling and throwing a slice of potato at James.

"You are ten years old, _please_ stop throwing food at the table," James tossed it back onto her plate. He said this with the type of kindness that he reserved for his siblings. He really did like them despite how bratty they often acted, and on most evenings, he would have been dotting on them constantly, mainly because his mother made him. His sister continued her tireless whining and James placed his elbow on the table and rested his face on his fist. "Mom-"

"No elbows on the table," Janet's voice was curt and Alan was now looking for a fork he dropped on the floor. One of their housekeepers came in to collect the plates and Janet turned to her other children to scold them for their bad behavior.

"Thanks," James said smiling as his plate was taken away. "How are your kids?"

"Well, I told you my youngest started school. She _hates_ it."

James laughed, "tell her it only gets worse."

"I'm sure that'll help." His housekeeper laughed, rubbed James' back and left to the kitchen.

He sunk into his chair and picked at the food on his plate and wondered what it would be like to be completely utterly alone for ten minutes of peace away from everyone in his circus of a house. His mind wandered dangerously to another house, a few streets away where he had spent one too many nights hidden from his parents and his siblings and the loudness of it all.

He tried not to think of all the other delightful reasons he had liked it so much.

 _No_ , he'd had enough of her on his mind for one day.

"Oh, Alan, I completely forgot to tell you about what Anna told me. Apparently, Grace Danvers' daughter eloped with that boy from _Bakersfield,_ California." She shook her head but did not go into further detail about why this might have been an issue. She never did. Always stayed on the surface of it to feign politeness. But it was always clear what she really thought.

"Who cares?" James' younger brother said. James grinned at him.

"It's not proper," Janet said, "just like raising your voice at the table."

* * *

Kristen never thought she'd be the type of girl to be in her room on a weekday crying over a boy but then again she never thought that she would have liked, let alone _dated_ Griffin.

She was sniffling more than she would ever have liked to admit, wiping away the fresh, hot tears that seemed never ending. She was _so stupid_. Dumber than all those girls Nikki, Dylan and Claire had made fun of for being anywhere near interested in Griffin. _(But then hadn't Dylan gone and done the same thing?)_

She should have known so much better than that. She brought her knees to her chest and buried her head into her thighs. She had spent the whole walk back from the Hastingses' trying her best not to break down sobbing. Was she not an honors student? Top of her class? She was a 4.0 student for fuck's sake! She was juggling being Treasurer for leadership, captain of the Varsity women's soccer team and the chair of the country club's student charity committee. _Plus_ she was a student volunteer tutor. She did not have time to even lay eyes on a boy, let alone let Griffin Hastings crawl into her mind and destroy any semblance of reasoning skills that she had gathered in her mere sixteen years. This was the type of distraction that her mother had warned her against, except fifty times worse.

Griffin had never mentioned Dylan to her. She had sat there through it all. Listened to them list the girls he had been with. Watched girls at every party throw themselves at him and she had just stared, helplessly and foolishly. Convinced it was all for the better. Pathetic.

What made it worse was that she wasn't even upset with him, just upset at the fact that he was not there to comfort her. She wanted nothing more than to have him hold her, as idiotic as that sounded. She wanted to lay her head on his chest and cry until there weren't any tears left, while he rubbed her back and told her all those comforting things he was so good at soothingly whispering into her ear. She missed him so much it was physically starting to hurt. And now it hurt more to know that he'd deceived her. Kept more things from her than she had thought and this wasn't even the worst of them.

She grabbed her phone and did the one thing she was pretty sure most everyone would have warned her against and pulled up their text conversations. Anything for evidence that she wasn't crazy to have trusted him, anything to prove that he really had cared about her.

 _Griffin Hastings_ : i think ur gonna need a ride home from school tomorrow  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : I think you're right.  
 _Griffin Hastings_ : i miss you  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : You saw me two hours ago.  
 _Griffin Hastings_ : oh sry, i didn't know there were rules against missing people  
 _Griffin Hastings_ : i take it back  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : Has anyone ever told you that you're annoying?  
 _Griffin Hastings_ : honestly...no  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : Then let me be the first.  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : Jk.  
 _Griffin Hastings_ : too late for your jk  
 _Griffin Hastings_ : i'm crying. it's your fault and i'm on my way to your house to demand an apology.  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : Fine. But take the elevator in the back and be very quiet.

She rubbed her forehead and scrolled up even further. He had been so attached to her, had snuck into her house late at night just to lay in bed with her or calm her down before tests she was worried about. He had told her over and over again how much she meant to him, how much he loved her, and she had fallen for it. Maybe that was what he did to all the girls he had been with...

She found a series of texts from when they had been at Derrick's house watching a basketball game one night. They had been sitting across the room from each other, exchanging glances when no one was looking.

 _Griffin Hastings_ : hey  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : Hi  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : Nice sweater.  
 _Griffin Hastings_ : thanks. it definitely belongs to james  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : You look cute.  
 _Griffin Hastings_ : i'm cold  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : ):  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : Wow, that sounds really difficult.  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : Maybe they'll make a BBC special about your struggle.  
 _Griffin Hastings_ : i love you

And she remembered how he had looked at her for her reaction. It had been the first time he had said it and while the words had been on the tip of her own tongue and while she felt how much he cared for her radiate in the way he looked at her or how he went out of his way for her, there was something so deep about seeing it. His eyes had bored into hers from across the room as he took in the exact facial expression she made when she read it. She had felt her toes curl with absolute delight, overwhelmed with how much of an effect he had on her. How seeing those stupid, three little words made her heart race and her whole body go numb with emotion. She had reread it just to make sure she had not dreamed the whole thing. Then they'd slunk off to an abandoned corner of the house and he'd said it again and again until the words just spun in her head and he'd laughed at how she kept prompting him to repeat it. She'd said ' _I love you too_ ,' and he grinned at her with that smile that made her melt and she couldn't stop herself from adding ' _so much'_ before he had kissed her.

She remembered that moment, her eyes shut tightly. Trying to remember, as vividly as she could, the way his kisses felt. Light as a feather's touch. Always so tender and soft and _careful_. How he would hold her face in his hands so very gently, like she was made of precious metals. And he'd kiss every inch of her face. Her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her jaw, her eyes, her chin and then lastly, her lips. Those peppered kisses falling on her like stars from the sky. His mouth like heaven. He would kiss her as if every time he did, it was the first time. Like they'd never been so close before and she would wonder how on Earth it was even possible for her to be this in love with someone. She had known him for so long, and yet it felt like she was seeing something new for the first time, and she was stunned she could overlook something so obviously in her face.

She focused on finding the feeling of fireworks and explosions in her mind when they'd touch in secret at school. How it would set her on fire in just a moment. When his hand would find hers under the lunch table, or when his knees would knock against her own. Even when he'd brush a hand past her, or place his fingers on her shoulder as he passed by. Any opportunity to be anywhere near her. All unnoticed by the world, meaningless to everyone else but her.

But then she felt stupid again.

And she was crying again.

And she wanted to stop _feeling_.

Did she even really know him? Did _anyone_? Griffin Hastings was an enigma. And he was dangerous. Always watching and waiting and too powerful.

But she couldn't hate him either, she didn't think that was even plausible. A year ago she wouldn't even have had to form a proper opinion about him if asked. She probably would have shrugged, said she thought he was smart or funny or some throwaway compliment because while she had observed and noted so much about the rest of them, he had always been elusive to her. Until that night in March.

Did she regret getting his car then? Could she even do that? She couldn't regret that because she couldn't regret him at all. No matter how much she wanted to.

Then she felt some sort of ease of mind. She couldn't be mad at him for Dylan. The two of them only began dating in June. She found it absurd that Dylan was the person who she related to the most at the moment.

She needed to suck it up and move on. She didn't know how or if she could, but she _had_ to. It was probably all intensified because he was gone. She knew this wasn't true, but she tried to convince herself it was.

She scrolled back down to the last thing he had texted her.

 _Griffin Hastings_ : wya  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : Upstairs. Master bedroom balcony. Needed some air.  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : Meet me?  
 _Griffin Hastings_ : always  
 _Griffin Hastings_ : already on my way

She thought back hard on their last interaction. He had spotted her on the stairs and had stopped her while hordes of people moved through the crowds, too drunk to pay any particular attention to them.

He'd whispered in her ear, something about how nice she looked, something that she badly wished she remembered. Now it seemed like even the tone of his voice was evading her.

She swallowed hard and started typing a new text message, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

 _Kristen Gregory_ : Griffin, I don't know where you are or if you have your phone or what.  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : If you see this, please reply.  
 _Kristen Gregory_ : I need to see you.

She knew it was a long shot and would heed no real results but she was desperate and sad and lost. They'd never found his phone, but she doubted that meant anything at all. She looked up at the ceiling, begging her tears not to come crashing down on her again. She looked down at her phone screen, hoping to text Nikki something cryptic enough to get some kind of comfort when she saw three dots.

Griffin Hastings: **(...)**

And then nothing. It disappeared quickly and she rubbed her eyes. Wondering if she had just imagined the whole thing.

* * *

Nikki was a little more nervous than she thought about the prospect of cops on campus. Technically she'd done nothing. Had she seen something? Well, that could have been the tequila.

She still stood by everything she'd said the morning after it had happened, after Fawn Hastings had called the police because her brother was nowhere to be found even though he'd told her he'd be coming home that morning to drive to Greenwich, Connecticut to get ropes for the family boat. _What a Westchester disappearance_ , Kemp had muttered, passing her on the steps up to the Harringtons' residence, where they were bombarded with question after question.

That morning after, Nikki had felt weirdly invigorated, eerily at peace as if this was all a huge game and she had to win it by playing it carefully. She'd gone for a run that morning, just like every morning, around the Westchester Park, not a trace of a hangover and the sun had stood bright above her, warming her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. It was a nice feeling.

Now she was in the school hallway and she felt miserable. Her body was sore after going running for the first time in two weeks. It felt like every inch of her was on fire and she felt like every movement was a suspicious one, even if they weren't even being questioned.

Which made things almost worse.

She'd found out about the situation from an email her mom had sent her the night before (yes, an _email_ ) and a brief phone call with Cam who had reiterated much of the same thing. Their parents had talked it out with the Sheriff's department and had somehow convinced them that their children would only be traumatized if further repetitive questioning was pursued. _Whatever the fuck that meant_. It made her stomach knot up at the thought of what their parents had to have really done to get the police to leave them out of it.

Maybe James was right, maybe Westchester police _were_ corrupt. The thought of him being right alone made her nauseous, or maybe it was the sushi from the night before or listening to Merri-Lee talk about the glory days of Westchester High after one too many glasses of wine at dinner (all because Dylan had felt guilty and invited her mom out to sushi).

Not to mention she was still kind of ticked off at Derrick for keeping Massie so in the dark about everything when she was just as involved. Now Nikki would have to take matters into her own hands, like always.

She reached her locker and nearly groaned at the thought of having to sit through classes all day long. She tugged her hair out from under her collar. It was still damp from her morning shower, she'd barely had time to get ready, putting off getting up until the last possible second.

"What happened to you?" Josh asked from three lockers down. He was preoccupied with swapping his books and hunting for homework that was probably shoved into the bottom of his bag. She assumed he could probably smell the lack of sleep off of her and the deep scent of her conditioner. Unlike her, he looked well-rested and completely sane, his hair was neatly combed, his flannel not at all crumpled. She was kind of jealous.

"Oh you know, just a midlife crisis is all-"

"Stocks are in a rough spot right now, makes sense," Josh replied.

"Yeah, and you know still setting aside for the kids' college tuition."

"You haven't already done that?" He gasped, "no wonder you look awful."

"Ha-ha," Nikki rolled her eyes, "too on the nose."

"Did you see this?" Josh asked, tossing her a newspaper from his locker.

It was the _Westchester High Gazette_. The bane of her existence, only because their agenda was anything but what Westchester High leadership wanted. As VP of Marketing, thoughts of the _Gazette_ team adrift somewhere past the Caribbean with no way back to shore often consumed her fantasies.

"Ugh," she flipped through it, looking for something talking about how Homecoming dances destroyed your IQ, or how school rallies were actually a brainwashing tactic by the NSA or something stupid and trite that a large majority of Westchester's faux hipsters would fall for. "What exactly am I looking for?"

"Front page," Josh said, grabbing a notebook and shutting his locker.

Her eyebrows knitted together, she hadn't seen anything captivating on the front page upon first glance. There was an article about whether the school lunches were actually healthy or not, which took up a large majority of the space. She flipped the stack of papers over and then she saw it. A column about Griffin Hastings sightings. It was a column of its own, and there was a brief introduction stating that it was going to be a weekly thing. His eyes were the header picture. It looked like a yearbook photo and somehow reminded her of _Making a Murderer_ all at the same time, which was odd seeing as _he_ was the one missing.

 _Hilarious_.

"You have to be shitting me," she laughed darkly, "what the hell?"

"Oh, no, please read them, it only gets better." Josh prompted, leaning against the lockers.

"'I saw Griffin wearing a Nino's worker outfit, hiding in the back eating burgers last Tuesday. -Anonymous.'" Nikki snorted.

"That's not even my favorite one." Josh pointed to a different section of the column.

"Oh, this is good. 'Griffin came to my house last night. I saw him in the bushes. When I asked him if I could help him, he said that he wasn't Griffin but someone else completely. #trippy -Anonymous.''" Josh mouthed along to Nikki reading it, like he had looked it over again and again, and nodded, grinning.

"You have to love the spirit of the student body. It's really something."

"It's delusional. As if Griffin would ever crawl around in bushes." Nikki rolled her eyes at the notion alone, what was wrong with people? Someone was missing! Then, not being able to help herself, she added, "his Rolex of the hour would get scratched or worse, his Yeezys would get dirty."

"Well, the thought of Griffin hiding out in Nino's does give me a sense of security that he's doing okay. You know, eating well and all. I think I might submit one of my own, 'Griffin was in my bed last night, we've been fucking since late July. He's not actually missing, just too preoccupied. -Griffin's Secret Lover.'" Josh grinned at his own joke and Nikki sighed.

"Aren't they all anonymous?" Nikki scanned the paper for other notes. This really was something, as if the paper didn't have better things to report about like actual school ongoings or how the chef was under investigation for fraud after an especially sticky divorce (Nikki did always think there was something particularly sketchy about her).

"Mm, I think there's a couple that aren't. Like that one," he jabbed his finger at one and Nikki pushed his hand away, bringing it closer to eye level. She needed to start wearing her contacts.

"'Seeking the wisdom the woods will lend. -GH,'" Nikki laughed loudly, "cute. Yeah, let's mock the missing guy with sad ripped lines from poetry."

"Very Griffin-esque," Josh nodded, "I mean I'm sure somewhere in between lines of coke, he was spewing poetry."

"Not unless it was a new drug, no." Nikki folded up the newspaper and threw it into the trash can behind her.

"There's actually a couple in there claiming to be Griffin, one says GMoneyHastings so we know it's him."

"I think I'm going to have to talk to whoever greenlit this shit. This is a new level of fucking idiocy that I didn't think even the _Westchester High Gazette_ was capable of. I mean, does Becca Wilder just let anyone sign up these days?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Josh shrugged.

"Uch, the death of journalism. I didn't know WH was the new Buzzfeed," Nikki shook her head and then slammed her locker door shut with a new mission. Anything to keep her mind off of this whole debacle.

Tearing Becca Wilder a new one gave her a sense of purpose and was proving to be a wonderful outlet. Maybe Becca would cry. Maybe she'd do that thing where she turned purple and started spluttering. Either way, it would be satisfying enough, and Nikki needed someone to blame.

* * *

Massie noticed Nikki before everyone else. She stood above the group, a tray in her hands covered in random food crap from the cafeteria, none that made up a full meal. Massie had long ago noticed that Nikki rarely ate things that constituted as meals, and were instead mainly sugary treats, drinks with whole milk and other things that would probably make most Westchester moms gag. Maybe that was the point.

"Nikki Dalton? Is that you?" Derrick asked, feigning astonishment. Massie tried not to let it irritate her how much her boyfriend actually cared about Nikki. They'd never see eye to eye on that, she supposed. At the current moment, she reminded herself, that was not the real problem. It felt like his laptop was searing a hole through her backpack. She'd tried to open it the night before, but the stupid thing had died on her right as she logged in, and she didn't have the right charger. The only logical thing she could think of was to bring it to school and use one of the library chargers.

She chewed on her lip thinking about how sneaky she'd have to be about the whole thing. Maybe she could just rent the charger. She wasn't even sure what the library rules were. She remembered then that Nikki was standing above them and the rest of the group was looking up, so she snapped out of it and tried to pay attention to this odd occurrence.

Nikki rolled her eyes, set her lunch tray down beside Kemp and pushed him with her hip to make room. Nikki's outfit was more toned down than usual. A checkered blazer with a too long distressed band t-shirt under it, no pants, electric blue booties and a handkerchief patterned ascot scarf around her neck. Massie wondered if maybe she had finally learned to hold back in some capacity in her life but thought that was probably not the case since the previous day she'd come to school in bright pink slacks.

"Get tired of the other three?" Chris asked, he rested his chin on his fist. Massie felt Alicia shift in discomfort beside her. Alicia had a strained relationship with Nikki, by that it really meant that both girls had a strong intense dislike for one another for no real particular reason. Well, Alicia had reason. Nikki was insufferable.

"Thank god," Kemp added, "she's come back for her _real_ friends."

"You were always our favorite," Derrick sing-songed. This Massie knew, despite it being teasing, was true to some extent.

"Don't tell, Dyl cause we told her the same thing last week." Josh stated matter-of-factly. Nikki ignored him.

"Things aren't the same without you," Cam said through chews of fruit gummies that had come from James' plate. "We had to find someone else to be annoyed with all the time and James wasn't handling the role as well."

"He just takes it," Derrick shook his head, "doesn't even pretend to get mad."

"James is too nice." Massie said, jumping in, rubbing James' back. They were always trying to make him mad. She had stopped trying to come up with reasons for why since she remembered Derrick once fleetingly mentioning that James had one of the most god awful tempers. Maybe it was like the Hulk and they all just wanted to see it. She wouldn't be surprised, their self-destructive nature was reckless and without much thought.

"James wouldn't hurt a fly," Alicia responded, James snorted and went back to scribbling his homework or whatever it was he was working on. The other boys seemed to find this funny too, as if they knew better. Massie saw Derrick look at Nikki in a manner he probably thought went unnoticed by the rest of the table, as if he, just like Massie, was waiting for Nikki to say something.

Massie didn't really care about Nikki as much as Alicia did in the beginning. She thought Alicia's fixation with hating Nikki was pretty boring at first but as time went on, she couldn't help it. The words and the comments would just tumult out when they were hanging out. Nikki became kind of their target when they were alone. It wasn't bullying necessarily, but there was something so irksome about how she carried herself, how she thought she was better than them for whatever reason, how she was always so blunt (Dylan too, but that was a different case entirely).

If Massie was forced to admit it, the distaste probably came from the fact that she never accepted them, and that could wound any ego.

(That and Massie was pretty convinced Alicia had a raging crush on James.)

"Yeah, James is _perfectttt_ ," Kemp said, reaching over to ruffle his hair. James dodged his hand rather easily. "No faults with this guy."

Massie knew they were goading Nikki (who had somehow managed to stay quiet the entire time - by some miracle of god) into starting some sort of fight and by the look on her face, it was definitely working. This was simultaneously in line with their other motive, which was to rile up James in anyway possible. _A two for one_ , she thought.

"Yeah," Nikki said nodding, ripping open a yoghurt, "aside from the fact he spends his afternoons faded as fuck and is on 30 milligrams of unprescribed Adderall at any given time."

Derrick cackled.

"You're just gonna let her have that?" Josh asked James. Josh then snatched the packet of gummies out of Cam's hands. Cam looked offended. The two of them were always bickering. Like _Pinky and The Brain_ but somehow even more dysfunctional.

James shrugged, "nothing she said was false."

"Except that it's 40 MGs, not 30." Kemp corrected ("It's prescribed," James chimed, to which Derrick then added, "yeah, but not to you."). "Also, I don't see how either of those things are flaws."

"Well, I can see why _you_ wouldn't," Nikki said with no emotion in her voice. She was now digging her fork through a fruit salad in search of things she wanted to eat. Massie thought she looked kind of like a child. _Why was she even at their table?_

"So Nikki, why grace us with your presence today?" James leaned back in his chair, pushing his homework forward. Massie was taken for a second by James' ease and part of her was curious as to how he managed to always be so blasé. Nikki's face was unreadable and Massie thought for a moment that it would probably be a lot easier to hate James too. As someone so agreeable and genuinely kind, it would be nothing but a deep dig to see how little he could care about you. At least on James' end, he'd always seemed impartial to Nikki, as if nothing she could do would truly faze him. Annoy him? Yes, but nothing more. Like he'd moved on immediately and she hadn't. It must've hurt.

"You didn't miss me?" Nikki asked menacingly. He grinned wickedly at her and said nothing in return. "I thought we had some catching up to do. Besides, I'm not here for you guys, I'm here for Alicia and Massie."

Massie felt the shock on her own face and saw it reflected on Alicia's. There was nothing good that could come of Nikki Dalton wanting anything to do with them.

"What the hell?" Derrick said, he flicked a carrot so that it went soaring to the table beside them where Dempsey, Todd and a few other of their teammates were eating lunch. ("Fuck you, Harrington!" was Dempsey's sole response.) They were after all, sitting on the balcony of the cafeteria that was essentially reserved for the school's athletes, more specifically the soccer team, and anyone that associated with them. "We get you hate us now or something but please, show some respect."

"You're just gonna disregard everything we had, baby?" Kemp said, making kissing noises by Nikki's ear. She scrunched her face and pushed his cheek far away from her. "Still fiesty. All this time away and you still haven't changed, Dalton."

"I hang out with you guys all the time. Just not at school, which may I remind you, was _your_ idea." She pointed her fork threateningly toward Derrick who held his hands up as a defense.

Massie knew that it was a general consensus that Derrick's idea was by far one of the stupider ones he had ever employed. It made no sense whatsoever. It distracted the student body, had them thinking that they were in some kind of rift because of Griffin's disappearance but it wasn't fooling anyone. If anything it made them look a lot more incriminating. She had other theories for why he had done it. Probably to bait away any room for people like Chris or Alicia or even Claire from finding out too much.

"All we do is text now," Josh pouted. "Is that what it's come to?"

Nikki groaned and picked up her tray, "Leesh, Mass, I just came to ask if you'd come to a sleepover this Friday night at my place. My parents won't be home." Their nicknames seemed foreign and odd coming from her tongue, but there was no room to question it.

"Remember when she'd say that to you?" Kemp whispered loudly to James. Nikki kicked the leg of his chair and he skirted into Chris who was too busy staring at the table beside them.

"I will see you," she looked at Alicia and Massie, "Friday." She then procured a very rare smile in their direction.

With that, she slung her backpack over her shoulder, picked up her tray and walked away without a second glance. Her Fendi backpack, with two eyes watchfully gazing at them seemed omen enough.

"She's crazy," Kemp said, going back to devouring his sandwich, "just batshit." His voice was bordering endearment though, he said it almost lovingly like someone might say about their one-eyed cat or their ill-behaved child.

"Did it take you this long to figure it out?" Josh asked, with much of the same tone.

The rest of the table dove back into a discussion of fantasy football or something like that and Alicia turned to Massie, "Do you think we should go?"

"Um," Massie sipped her pressed juice and mulled it over, "it can't hurt?"

"She didn't really give you much of a choice," Derrick interrupted, with a half laugh.

Massie couldn't help but glare at him as a response. She wasn't sure what was actually happening with them but she knew she was angry and he was the reason. Things had gotten a little better since their encounter in the parking lot. They sat together at lunch and sometimes she went over after school to do homework, but it was always an hour max before she got worked up with the whole thing and had to leave. Well, until she had seen the texts lining up on his phone from a group message she was sure had something to do with Griffin. Derrick was hiding something from her. She could feel it in her bones.

Her irritation had started the night of Danny's, crept up the morning after, worked it's way through her veins until the night before, and then as she watched classmate after classmate get called out for questioning while she just sat there, it had all boiled over. The texts had been one thing but seeing Derrick look unbothered by the fact that they were supposed to get called out and never were, peaked her annoyance to a level she didn't think she could even cross. He had something to do with it, he knew something that he wasn't telling her, and it only fueled her.

Derrick was loyal to a fault. Massie had noted long ago. They all had a thing. That's how Griffin had chosen them, at least that's what she liked to think. It wasn't so much that they were the best but that they were the most fucked up, each in a different way and each in a way that was understanding of the others.

Cam's thing was aloofness. He did it on purpose. Josh was cunning. He didn't mean it but he was. Kemp was brash. Nikki was callous without reason. Dylan trusted too much and too deeply and then not at all. James, well she'd never seen it firsthand, but his supposed temper came to mind.

Derrick's thing was his loyalty and his ideology on friendship. _Friends are more than family_ , he'd always say. She wasn't sure if this was Griffin who had ingrained this in them or what. Derrick's loyalty to them superseded his love for her. She knew this.

She remembered Anna saying it once to Nadia over drinks at a party in the Hamptons that same summer. Massie was waiting by the restroom and had overheard them from the other side of the crystalized, glass doorway. They didn't notice her.

Whatever had led to this conversation, she was unsure but she had caught the part that had stuck with her through the whole thing. Since the night of August 11th it was all she could think about, all that would fill her thoughts as she would sit in bed at night and stare at the ceiling.

"He's a sweet boy," Nadia had said, her accent thicker with the liquor, "you raised him well. You can't say that for most of these boys."

Her eyes had lingered on Griffin, or maybe Massie just imagined that part (although it would not be a stretch). The parents all had their views on Griffin. But his charm ultimately worked on them too. They wanted their kids to be friends with him but resented him as well.

Anna had scoffed, "thank you but," she shook her head before taking a generous sip of champagne, "he's doomed. He's just like his father. Complete disarray of priorities." Nadia had raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow as a cue for Anna to explain this statement. Anna had gulped, pressing her lips together to savor the taste (only the best champagne for Westchester's elite). "In a manner of speaking, it will always be those kids first." She gave a pointed glance at Dylan and James who were snickering about something Kemp had said, making fun of him probably.

"And certainly Massie," Nadia had replied. It was no secret that Derrick was a hundred percent committed to Massie. It was clear as day, so much so that it made Massie blush at times when she saw other people noticing how he doted on her.

Anna's response had been a laugh, with a hint of somewhat sadness, as if she were speaking from her own experience, "she will always be first in his heart, maybe. But in everything else? Second." Anna had finished her glass, set it on the tray of a passing waiter, and picked up another after that .

But it was true. Derrick's pet peeve was dishonesty and disloyalty. Once his opinion of you soured, once there was a single toe out of line, he would not bother with you anymore. You could tell him you murdered someone and he would have appreciated the honesty more than anything (even the anger that most sane people would have felt for the fact that they had now become an accomplice - Massie was sure as a token of honesty, Derrick would offer to help bury the body. She wouldn't be surprised if he'd already done such a thing for Griffin).

Derrick felt that it was his duty to always be in line with his friends. And that was how Massie knew that even Derrick had to be fucked up somehow because there was no way he consumed all of their truths and hadn't bat an eye.

This was how she knew he was lying to her.

This was why she ultimately decided she'd go to Nikki Dalton's house on Friday to get to the bottom of it all and how she knew that if he found out about what she was about to do, he'd probably never forgive her. But for someone who honored honesty, who was he to lie to _her_?

* * *

Derrick hadn't seen Kristen all day, which was typically really weird. Regardless of their current situation, he and Kristen had a pretty calming relationship and he liked seeing her in the hallways or in class. She centered him kind of, made him think of other things that had nothing to do with their current predicament. Usually, she was the one to calm him down by bringing him back to reality, one overreaction and Kristen was there with a judging look that made him instantly realize how dumb he was being.

Of course, now he was actively hunting for her in the halls which obviously meant that it was going to be more difficult than he had thought. He probably should not have mentioned to Claire (who really always got everything out of him) that he needed to talk to Kristen.

Technically the situation was that he needed to give her something. Her books to be exact because Sammi couldn't be bothered with the errand. Like the rest of her group, they'd long since given up on trying to pretend they cared about high school antics, like they were too cool for it or something. They spent every lunch off campus doing whatever the hell it was they did. Not that he blamed her, it was almost WH tradition to check out entirely senior year. The amount of senior students on campus was always scarce. They'd come to class and then disappear moments later. He couldn't wait.

It wasn't exactly stalkerish, he hoped, that he'd been leaning against the side of the lockers at an angle where Kristen would not be able to see him if she went to fetch a book. It was for the common good, he told himself. Besides, he could not have Massie mad him, while he was simultaneously lying to Claire, and now have Kristen avoid him.

"What are you doing?" Kristen asked, he nearly jumped.

She stifled a chuckle and proceeded to walk to her locker.

"How'd you see me?" Derrick asked, sidling up to her.

"You're not exactly the perfect camouflage. You're a tall, gangly looking, blond hovering by the lockers. Hard to miss." She seemed a little off, and wasn't making eye contact.

"I'm going to try to not be offended by that seriously damaging description."

"What did you want me to call you? Super hunky?" She snorted at her own joke. It wasn't that funny but Derrick didn't have time to get into it with her.

"I think these are yours," he blurted. _Smooth._

He held out the books in his hands and she looked at them and then back up at him. She turned them over in her hands in such a specifically weird way, he couldn't pinpoint it. It was like she had been reunited with some heirloom or a lost gift or whatever the hell.

"Oh," she said coughing, "thanks."

"Why'd you need them?" He hoped he sounded casual and not at all accusatory, the latter which was how he actually felt because the circumstances of her attempt at trying to get the books was really something.

Breaking and entering one of the most, if not _the_ most, protected house in Westchester? And for what? _Books?_ He may not have been Plovert level genius but the whole thing was genuinely really absurd. Another thing that he'd also kept to himself. It took everything in him not to mention it to Cam or Josh or even Nikki.

"Because we're getting tested on this shit, obviously." She rolled her eyes. Kristen cussing often felt pretty unnatural and forceful, it just never felt right, which also made him feel like she was lying.

"So you thought the best way to get the books back was breaking into Griffin's house?" Derrick was starting to get annoyed. If he had the books she had to know he knew the circumstances. If she knew something the rest of them didn't, if she could just tell him, maybe he could help.

"I-I," Kristen looked around, huffed and then spoke again when she saw no one was paying attention in the rush of getting to class. This seemed like somewhat of a haven since the rest of their days were spent with people dissecting every single thing they did. If they looked too sad, someone took note. If they didn't look sad enough, someone took note. It was damned if you do, damned if you don't. "Look, I wanted to see if I could find something, anything. I thought the best place to start was his house."

Derrick narrowed his eyes, he hoped Kristen wasn't lying to him.

She huffed again, "you know, the whole thing was such a blur...I barely remember it and I thought that maybe if he planned to just skip town that he would have left something. I didn't think Fawn would be there." The way in which Kristen looked almost relieved at explaining this to Derrick made his shoulders relax. She wasn't lying to him.

"Okay," Derrick took a deep breath, "so you think he's out there?"

"Do you think he's not?" Kristen asked. She seemed borderline irritated that he would think otherwise, like he had stepped on some kind of territory that was off limits.

"Uh," he scratched his head, "I don't know? Do you think he's just chilling outside in the woods or something?"

"I don't know, maybe? I mean it's Westchester..." Kristen rubbed her forehead, "and he always went to the woods to smoke and stuff, who knows?"

Derrick would later (about 3 weeks, in fact) mentally curse himself for not questioning how Kristen knew where Griffin went to smoke when he'd rarely take anyone out there with him, especially not Kristen of all people who never hung out with Griffin alone.

"Yeah, I guess," Derrick looked at his watch.

" _And_ I've been waiting for them to call us in all day and they haven't-"

"They're not going to," Derrick said quietly, voice low. His mom had informed him of that little nugget of info the night before. Apparently all the parents (well, clearly not _all_ ) had talked and pulled some strings. This mildly upset him too because did that mean they thought they aided Griffin in ditching town? Or worse, in _killing_ him? The idea alone freaked him out. He didn't know if it was worse that his parents thought he was capable of being an accomplice to a crime or that they would that hide it that easily.

Kristen seemed to understand the situation behind it because she didn't question it any further.

"Huh," she said, mulling it over and then said nothing at all.

"Also, what the hell is with Nikki inviting Alicia and Massie to a sleepover? What's wrong with her?" Derrick knew this was a lesser issue but there was something deeply off about Nikki being welcoming at all. It was not her forte. She was good at being fake sometimes but that was really it. It lasted so briefly that it never even counted and only left people wondering what they had done wrong.

"Why would I know?" Kristen asked, looking annoyed and taken aback by this as if their entire conversation hadn't literally started with the repercussions of her breaking into Griffin's house. Also as if Nikki didn't talk to Kristen like she was literally bouncing thoughts around in her mind. Altogether she had no reason to talk to him like that, he was mildly offended.

"Because Nikki tells you everything," Derrick stated plainly, this caused Kristen to shift uncomfortably under his gaze and now he was unsure what he had done to offend her.

"I think she just wants to keep an eye on Massie," Kristen said, "and probably because she thinks it's funny."

Derrick let out a sharp breath as a response. He didn't really have anything further to say about Nikki's childish tactics. He had a feeling she was going to prove to be a thorn in his side throughout this whole thing, they were not on the same page about how to go about everything that was happening. He was also trying to put off talking to her about this for as long as possible, you know, for his own sanity. As much as he loved her, disagreeing with her was draining and he'd need to mentally prepare for it.

"Well," Kristen hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder. He held back from telling her that her overalls were lopsided. "I think I'm gonna go." She looked down at the books he'd given her again, flipped through them, and then sucked in a breath.

And with that she turned and left, and Derrick was even more confused than he'd been before.

* * *

 _kg,_  
 _quit while you're ahead._  
 _love, g_

Kristen sat in the back of the library and turned the paper in her hands again and again. Folded and unfolded it and even crumpled it up.

 _What the hell did that mean?_

She couldn't help but stare at the 'love' for a little too long. She hated herself for feeling a little pleased at it. He loved her. He'd said it on this random scrap of paper that was wedged in the middle of The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail, he'd have no reason to lie there. _Right?_ She shook her head, she was too preoccupied with all of that.

What was the point of the note? Did he leave it before any of this had happened, as some type of cryptic joke? Or was it left after for this very moment?

She placed her head in her hands and sighed.

And then she remembered.

She remembered the first time they went out there. When they'd run out of places to hang out without people finding them and he'd said he wanted to show her something. When she'd told him about how she thought everyone already knew about them and how she was sure, just 100% certain, that Josh knew and she wanted to ask.

Griffin had thought it was funny, he'd said, "quit while you're ahead."

It had to mean something.

* * *

 _gregory_ : the woods  
 _gregory_ : we have to check the woods  
 _derrick harrington_ : what?

* * *

"Becca, you sniveling little bitch-"

"Nice to see you too, Nikki." Becca Wilder looked up at Nikki with her beady little eyes and Nikki was ready to hurl any and every insult possible at her...until she saw Kemp sitting beside Becca. Didn't he have someone to tutor or soccer practice or something that was productive to be doing?

"Hey, Nik," Kemp grinned at her in that fake, 'I hate my life but I'm going to pretend everything is fine' sort of way that he'd perfected.

"What the hell is happening?" Nikki raked a hand through her hair in frustration. It had at least dried now. She'd looked forward to this moment all day, in each class she day-dreamed about Becca's response and how happy she'd be when she'd get to walk outside, get in her car, go home, and pop champagne for a job well done.

Now Kemp was there, sitting beside Becca like they were old friends and like he was about to ruin Nikki's day. Kemp out of all of them probably had the most going for him when this was all over. Psychological trauma bounced off of him so easily, it was enviable. She could see it now, he'd go off and become some sort of frat star, get drunk and call them every night about how he missed their glory days, and then would just go about his Westchester ways with all of this a blip in his past. Part of her thought he liked this chaotic mess because it was some type of group bonding in his eyes. Regardless, he didn't even know the whole situation and she liked it that way, she felt protective of Kemp whenever he wasn't being himself. Whatever it was, nothing explained why he was sitting there with Becca Wilder.

"We were talking about the Griffin memorial edition," Becca nodded solemnly.

Nikki shot Kemp a look, she hoped it came across as subliminal, like they were communicating in secret, but she knew her expression was too angry for that. She could feel her lips curling over her teeth like a snarl. Sometimes she amazed herself with how worked up she could get.

"He's not _dead_ ," Nikki stomped her foot slightly and edged forward toward Becca who was seated at her editor's chair, the computer screen emanating a light that made all of her imperfections stand out. Becca scooted back, almost as if Nikki's words were physically being hurled at her. This brought a sick satisfaction to Nikki who was hellbent on getting what she came for.

"Well, factually we don't know that," Nikki sucked in her breath, it took everything in her not to deck Becca Wilder on school property, "but he is gone and this is none of your business. This is not a leadership concern-"

"But that's where you're mistaken. It _is_ , Rebecca. Griffin was a sports commissioner for leadership and _we_ were handling the rally in his honor. He hasn't been gone a month and you're dragging his name through the mud-"

"Dragging his name through the mud? Let's not be dramatic, Nicol-"

"Cut me off one more time, I fucking _dare_ you-"

"Ladies, ladies," Kemp stood up, placing his hands forcefully on the table, "Nikki, we were talking about the best way to go about it so that we wouldn't be stepping on any toes." He shot her a smile that screamed that this was the best he could do, but it was not good enough, not to Nikki. No one talked about her friends like that, no one was cruel to them without her putting an end to it. She knew she could be overly defensive of them, knew she could reach a point of anger that undid her but she didn't care.

Being mean came easy to her, so naturally, it was the perfect defense system. Immaculate. Really, it came easy to all of them. Maybe that's why they loved Griffin so much, he made them all look like amateurs, like they were good people just in comparison.

"Stop writing about him." Nikki said evenly, "just stop. It's as easy as that. No toes to be stepped on if you don't even talk about it."

"It's the talk of the town, the _Herald_ is writing about it, it's fair game-"

" _The Westchester_ _Herald_ is real journalism, and even then barely. Please do not compare your high school, amateur magazine to the _Herald_. It's embarrassing."

"Our voices will not be quelled by the likes of you. This is a true journalistic institution."

Nikki noticed Kemp suppressing an eye roll.

"Kemp, please," Nikki placed a hand over her mouth and took a deep breath, "help her see reason."

"Bec," he said sweetly, "maybe Nikki's right."

"And maybe she's not."

"And maybe she's not," Kemp repeated.

"You're not helping," Nikki said through gritted teeth, "I said let this buffoon see light-"

"I can fucking _hear_ you," Becca shot back.

"Oh, you watch your mouth with me, Wilder," Nikki wagged a finger at Becca, almost reminding herself of her own mother (something she'd later lay awake at night and think about because if she turned out like Lindy Dalton she'd probably never forgive herself).

"Guys! Listen Bec, Nikki may be right or wrong but that's not the point. The Hastingses have a lot at their disposal and they're going through the thick of it right now. Fawn is a student here, think about how hard that must be." Kemp's voice was too kind for Nikki's taste. Becca was not a child.

"That's journalism-"

"It's a fucking dying industry! Clearly for a reason if you're the type that's interested! I've had it up to here with your bullshit. I will be taking this to Principal Burns and you know what? I'll get Len Rivera there for good measure. See how good your journalistic intentions are when there are lawyers staring down your-"

"Do not make me out to be an asshole."

"You are what you eat, you brown-noser-"

"Nikki!" Kemp sounded exasperated and Nikki crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance. "Please, Bec, just think it over. Maybe we can come to an agreement. Why not hold off on the memorial edition? Nikki is right, it hasn't been that long. We should at least be respectful of his family."

"Fine," Becca said snootily, "but I will not stop the weekly column."

"Fine," Nikki said, "don't come bawling to us when you and the school get sued for your defamation attempts." Nikki turned to leave but not before seeing the glimmer of a tear in Becca's eyes. _Easy_. "Looking forward to the next copy!"

Nikki stormed out of the offices, her blood pressure was probably shooting through the roof. She could feel her face heating up. Who the hell did Becca think she was? Who the hell did she think _Griffin_ was? Some sad, pathetic weeping friend of Becca's who had wandered too far and couldn't be found? Becca had no idea what she was dealing with, and who.

"Nikki! Wait up," Kemp ran up to her, coughing, "I think we can count that as a win."

"Really? _Really_ , Kemp? God, what were you even doing in there?"

"Relax," he squeezed her shoulder, laughing, "and I was there because she asked Ahnna and me for a quote for her stupid Griffin edition and I asked to meet with her to discuss it. So we could end it or at least negotiate it."

"Well, she's the worst and I wish she'd just mind her own goddamn business...also, wait what? _Ahnna_?" Nikki stopped walking and turned to face him, "the new girl?"

"Yeah, her dad is the new sheriff on the case."

Nikki blinked and then shook her head, "oh, so that means she has all the knowledge on the case?" The sarcasm was probably cutting and Kemp didn't deserve it but Nikki was already mad, "what the hell is Becca playing at? This is so disgusting. I swear to god I'll-"

"Let's keep the threats to a minimum, honey." He patted her shoulder and Nikki glared, "we aren't exactly in the place to be throwing out threats at our peers."

"I think it would be alarming if I didn't," Nikki started walking to the exit again, if she made it home now she'd be able to squeeze in a glass of wine before her parents arrived. They were finally in town for longer than a few short days and she needed to be completely relaxed for it. If she timed it now, the smell of wine would not linger on her breath before they got home. Her mom was always so weird about that...well, she was only 17.

"We're the main suspects for a case about a missing student," Kemp said in a low voice, walking quickly to keep up, "I think we should probably play it safe."

"People go missing for a myriad of reasons, Kemp, and it doesn't have to be anyone's fault. People run away."

"Or they're kidnapped. Plus, this _is_ a potential homicide-"

"Will everyone please chill with that? He's not _dead_. There's no body. It's a missing person's case. It happens. Murder or foul play does not always have to be the answer. I think you've been listening to too much of that true crime podcast Plov got you hooked on," Nikki walked quickly away from Kemp so that he couldn't catch up or wouldn't. She slowed her breathing down bit by bit, taking in deep breaths to calm her nerves.

He was alive. He had to be.

* * *

"Oh good, you're here." Derrick said over his shoulder. Cam raised an eyebrow as Derrick walked through the back door of his house. School had been odd enough, but now Derrick was being his jittery self which honestly gave Cam all kinds of migraines. He'd canceled practice last minute because he claimed the team needed to 'relieve stress' or something that didn't quite make sense.

"Where else would I be?" Cam asked, picking up a Milky Way bar from the basket of candy on Derrick's counter, before following him out the back. Derrick's mom was all about positivity and indulgence, she believed (through some self-help book she was obsessed with) that if you gave into your indulgences, you wouldn't want them anymore - clearly, as Cam chewed his way through his millionth candy bar of the week, that was not true.

"Your own house?" Derrick offered.

"Why would I be there?" Cam tore into the chocolate bar, humming as he bit into it.

"Good point." Derrick responded with a hint of sarcasm. "I just-can you believe all of this shit with Griffin?" Derrick ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Cam shrugged. "It's pretty reasonable given everything else-"

"Really?" Derrick dead-panned. Cam shrugged again. "He should be here. I mean not _here_ , but here in Westchester."

"You don't think he's in Westchester?" Cam continued to follow Derrick through the side gardens of his house.

The Harringtons, like most people on this side of Westchester, were always going through some kind of phase, wanting the family home to change and be renovated or whatever the hell. It never worked, the new decor was always ripped out and replaced with the classic, timeless stuff that had been there before. Cam noted Mrs. Harrington's attempt with the making the backyard resemble that of a Spanish villa, it was a nice try but he gave it about another month before she got tired of it and redid it again. The outdoor tiles were bright blues, and there were clay walls and fountains springing from the ground. It was pleasant if you weren't consumed with thoughts about illegal activities and the disappearance of a seventeen-year-old boy.

"I mean, who knows? He shouldn't be gone."

"You saw the alert right?" Cam followed closely behind, confused as to where exactly Derrick was walking to.

"Yeah, I call bullshit. They're 'de-elevating the case' after today's questioning because they concluded that he left on his own, as if we didn't already think that," Derrick scoffed. "I mean, it took a month to figure that out?"

"They probably just had to be sure," Cam responded, "you know, doing their job."

"Shut up, Cam."

They reached the detached garage and Derrick punched in the code on the keypad and walked in as soon as the door buzzed open. Cam was not exactly sure what Derrick was doing but he never asked too many questions. Well, he did but just not in situations like this one.

Derrick turned away from the line up of his father's vintage cars and went to open the side storage room that people rarely went in. This was where they kept things like ski gear and old golf clubs and parasails. Cam hadn't been in there in a long time.

Derrick grabbed his bike from a rack in the corner. Lined up were a few mountain bikes that his dad and Patrick used and two BMX bikes.

Derrick looked up at Cam who stared back at him with a rather concerned look on his face. Cam stopped chewing the chocolate bar in his mouth and pursed his lips together.

"You want to ride your bike as a coping mechanism?"

"No, you imbecile." Derrick set the bike down and looked up to make sure no one was coming in, "I was thinking we'd use them to get through the forest tonight. We can't walk and we definitely can't drive. Plus, these can get us a decent distance through the trees and we can walk the rest of the way."

"Oh, so you think you're in an episode of _Stranger Things_. Great."

"Shut up, just grab a bike."

"You'd be Steve." Cam said, putting the Milky Way bar he was eating completely in his mouth and used both hands to grab the handles of one of the bike, ripping it out of its stand. He set it down and pulled the chocolate from his teeth, chewing on a piece.

They both spoke simultaneously.

"You're just saying that because of his last name."

"It's not just cause of the last name."

Derrick rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, it's the entire attitude." Cam nodded as if he was confirming his own point. "Who else would show up with a fucking baseball bat to kill a monster? You. The answer is you."

"And who are you?" Derrick asked, bending down to adjust the chains on his bike. Cam could tell by Derrick's tone that he was not interested in this conversation at all, and that brought Cam a sort of joy he could only get from irritating Derrick Harrington.

"Barb, easily."

"Then who's Nancy?"

"Josh - which is offensive. I just can't imagine him choosing you over me."

"Me neither," Derrick said, checking out the wheels of his bike.

"Wait, that was kind of touching."

"Nah, I meant I can't imagine it would ever be a choice." He flashed Cam a bright smile.

"That's fucked up," Cam was chomping on the remains of his chocolate, kicking one of Derrick's wheels.

Derrick shrugged and then kicked Cam's heel in return, "hurry up."

"Wait, we're going to look for Griffin's stakeout right? Just wanna clarify cause I didn't want to ask too many questions since I'm trying out this new thing where I'm supportiv-"

"Yes," Derrick glared at him, "did you think we were going skinny dipping?"

"I could be down," Cam replied.

They rolled the bikes out of the garage and after a few beats of silence and Cam chewing on his chocolate, Derrick added, "it would be so much cooler if this was actually like _Stranger Things_."

Cam pointed at him as a form of agreement and they continued on their way as if they weren't about to enter the Westchester woods on a manhunt.

* * *

That evening Derrick and Cam would miss the second alert sent out to the student body of Westchester High. The rest of them would feel like the worst was over, as they sat in their cushioned homes, doing homework and having dinner with their parents just like every night. None of them would think to see it, to read the email with those words they all dreaded most: _We regret to inform you..._ The next morning, a new _Westchester Herald_ would be hot off the press with the details inked.

Griffin Hastings' phone had been found.

Half of it at the bottom of the Westchester Lake, the other half on the rocks nearby, cracked and covered in blood, blood they suspected was his. The air would be sucked out of Westchester and all hell would break loose at the White Party when Heather Hastings would receive a phone call, but how could they know? How could they possibly have predicted it? But more on that later.

* * *

Author's Note: Like I said, that was a longggg one. I feel like I may go back and change things but I always feel that way after I write something. I'll see where I'm at when the next chapter comes out. Please leave me your thoughts and questions and any pairings/friendships/etc. that you'd like to see. I have the plot down pat but there's still a lot more to cover. Thanks for reading! :)


	5. hades

_A/N_ : I don't know why it's taken me so long. I've rearranged this chapter like 7 times. This chapter is a little shorter than the usual, but I split it into 3 parts so the rest will be coming shortly.

The Tumblr is also updated with finalized face claims, so check that out! wasteland(*)fic(*)tumblr(*)com

* * *

 _hades._

 _dylan marvil:_ tomorrow after school  
 _khurl_ : ya ya, stop reminding me  
 _khurl_ : don't forget i have an errand to run  
 _dylan marvil_ : ik stop reminding me

* * *

 _June 2017._

"Are you in love with him?" Chris perked up at the sound of Todd's voice, his presence suddenly bringing everything into focus. He was snapped back into reality where the Hamptons social scene was in full swing before him. Only a few days in and already steeped in debauchery.

"I'm sorry, what?" Chris asked.

He had zoned out on Kemp who was drunk, carrying around a bottle of Dom, donning a giant, baby pink, fur coat with no shirt on, in just his boxers and a sparkling gold chain. He was wearing James' glasses and slipping around in a pair of Gucci slides. Chris had been watching his best friend warily but his mind had wandered and _really,_ what stupid shit could Kemp do that he hadn't already done before?

"Are you in love with him?" Todd repeated, he sat down beside Chris and chewed on his bottom lip, running a hand roughly through his strawberry blonde hair.

Chris scrunched his eyebrows together, " _Kemp_?" Chris snorted, "don't tell me you had some of his molly water."

He saw that look on Todd's face that he made when he felt mildly belittled. Chris had a bad habit of being kind of condescending, he didn't mean it. Todd was wringing his hands together now, looking frazzled. His cornflower blue eyes, that he shared with Claire, were distraught, and his lips were pursed. Chris placed his crystal glass down, reached out, and pushed Todd's hands apart. It was a nervous habit and Chris didn't like those.

(He did however, like the feeling of Todd's soft hands.)

"I don't mean Kemp," Todd said, his voice soft. They both looked up at Kemp who was still bumbling around while Skye Hamilton giggled and took a Snapchat. _Sad_ , Chris thought, Kemp wasn't even sober enough to enjoy the attention and he thrived on that. "I definitely don't mean Kemp."

Chris quirked a brow, "then what are you possibly talking about?"

'What,' and not 'who,' was an appropriate word for what followed next.

Todd swallowed hard, "him," he gestured with his chin in the opposite direction, "Griffin."

Chris followed Todd's gaze to where Griffin was standing. He too, was watching Kemp, a look of mild dissatisfaction on his face, looking regal as ever. A king watching a court jester. He was standing with his back resting against the wall while a group of people sat around him on the plush chaises of the Hurleys' Hampton home. It looked like some type of Renaissance painting, all of them beneath him while he stood there above them, like some type of ethereal deity.

"Griffin," Chris repeated, breaking his stare and turning back to his boyfriend, "Griffin," he said again and then curious about how the name felt on his lips, he said it again, perplexed, "Griffin?"

"Yes," Todd said, scooting a little closer, the smell of sandalwood drifted off him and offered a pleasant break from the smell of weed, " _Griffin,_ " there was an edge of annoyance to his tone. Chris realized that he probably wasn't doing a good job of denying this, even though it wasn't true in the slightest.

Granted, he did love Griffin, but it wasn't romantic love. It was something that was a behemoth of a thing that made his head hurt to think about. It was such a specific form of love and affection, and Chris didn't think it would help his case to try to explain it. He'd probably sound deranged or crazy but the thing was, that love was nestled deep within him, he rarely thought about it, it was just second nature. It was a consistent beat of his heart, just part of who he was. He never thought about loving Griffin, he never even acknowledged that he did love him in some capacity, but that was all of them. That was everyone.

"I am not in love with Griffin," Chris stated, looking evenly into Todd's eyes, "I'm not sure where you'd even get that idea."

"You're at his beck and call," Todd said quickly, shooting a glance up at Griffin, "you do everything he asks, you're always with him, you spend all your free time with Griffin-"

"And with everyone else," Chris cut in, "I think you're forgetting that I spend more time with Kemp - it probably _would_ have made more sense if you thought I was in love with Kemp. I literally spend all my free time with you, but they're my friends. They've been my friends. Fuck, I spend the same amount of time with your sister, do you think I'm in love with _her_?"

Todd shrunk back a bit, "no. I guess not."

"You _guess_ not?"

"Fine. I don't. B-but it's different," Todd said, shaking his head, "it's just different-"

"Because it's Griffin?"

Todd didn't reply, he looked up again, his face blank and partially petrified. Chris raised his eyebrows to prompt a response but when Todd didn't reply, Chris turned to see what he was looking at. Griffin was watching the two of them with an even gaze. Chris suddenly felt nauseous, like Griffin, who was standing across the room - the crowded, and loud, and raucous room - had heard their conversation.

Griffin looked at them and then, turned, and exited the room.

Chris continued to stare at the spot he'd been at, and he could feel Todd still looking too. Chris licked his lips and turned back to Todd.

"I believe you," Todd said, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand, "it's just hard."

"That's not on me," Chris replied, he tried to sound as kind as possible even though his words were a little piercing, "I'm not going to be the type of boyfriend you want me to be. I'm not rosy and sweet and I have friends like Griffin. I want this to work but you have to be able to understand that."

Chris wanted things to work with Todd probably more than Todd wanted it to work. He was certain that no one knew this, but it was the truth. Todd was not jaded. He was kindhearted, and well-intentioned, and so _overwhelmingly_ good. Todd saw something in Chris that Chris didn't even believe existed. Chris didn't deserve him, but he wanted him. Badly.

"I do," Todd nodded, his voice sounding surer than before, "I think I'm just a little tipsy and earlier…never mind...I guess, I just have to get used to it. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Chris elbowed him lightly and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I'll drive you home."

* * *

Massie was bouncing her beauty blender absentmindedly on her nose when her eyes wandered to the Macbook on her bed. She felt her gut wrench at the act of utter betrayal she had performed.

Derrick's old, battered laptop was sitting just where she'd left it. She'd stayed up the entire night going back and forth on whether or not to power it on now that she had a charger. She'd come home in a fit of rage, ready to delve into all his business, or whatever was left on his computer. It dissipated quickly when she finally sat down and realized her mistake. How could she do this to _Derrick_? Derrick who loved her unconditionally. Derrick who never expected anything but honesty from her.

This was the part where she was reminded that he'd of course lied to her first. Not that it was a game of evening things out...except that maybe it was. If he wasn't going to tell her the truth, she had to find out for herself. At the end of the day, she needed to know just how deep this thing ran, this thing that _she_ was involved with. If it came down to the law of it all, she had to know.

This was the part where she was reminded that if it _did_ in fact come down to the law, it was probably better if she didn't know more.

But then that was the part where that pesky voice in the back of her head would say, _what does it matter anyway? Don't you know the worst of it? Or isn't it bad enough what you already know?_

But then she'd go back again to well, why poke a sleeping giant, right? Why find out more about something that maybe it wasn't good to know about? Why dive deeper into something that could just backfire? There was probably a reason that Derrick didn't want to tell her. _Right?_

She shook her head because she'd been having this internal argument all night and it just looped back around, because it boiled down to the fact that she _knew_. She knew that Derrick didn't tell her because more than anything, he was probably ashamed.

She set her beauty blender down and got up, picked up her bag, and got ready to leave. She bit the inside of her lip, the laptop was just calling to her. She'd even stupidly stolen a charger for it from the library because she couldn't bring herself to pull it out at school and just get it done with there.

Who was she now? A thief? A criminal? _Derrick?_

"Massie, you're running late," Kendra's voice reverberated through the room and Massie threw the laptop under her covers.

"Uh, thanks," she said, clicking the intercom by her bed. "I'm leaving now."

"You're going to miss breakfast," Kendra _tsked_ and the line went dead.

Massie ran a hand through her hair. She had a couple of hours between school and Nikki's sleepover (which Massie was still unsure what to think of). She could come back and trifle through Derrick's computer...but _why_? Couldn't she just talk to Nikki? Well, that seemed easier said than done. Her mind was jumbled with thoughts of different ideas of how to best angle this situation but none of them seemed to call to her the same way as just powering on the damn laptop and finding out for herself. Why was she being so wishy washy and such a fucking coward?

It was so much easier to tell herself she was going to fuck it all and do it when she was staring Derrick in the face. It was easier when the root of the problem was smiling that Old Hollywood, crooked, toothy grin at her, as if everything was just peachy keen. When she was alone, she felt all the aches of what it would mean to do this, how far off the path they were from where she wanted them to be. When she was alone she was consumed with thoughts about the Derrick that she knew and trusted.

This was just not who she was. She was put together, got a perfect amount of sleep at night, and ate balanced meals. She sipped champagne in moderation, and wore diamonds and pearls, and dressed in a very Parisian chic, minimalist style. She didn't steal, or lie, or betray people. It was against her very nature.

Her mind was wrack with possibilities of the whole thing going wrong too but it was Derrick. What could he do if he found out? What _would_ he do if he found out?

For some reason the idea alone gave her chills.

Did she even know what he and his friends were capable of?

* * *

James knew two things the others didn't. Two things that he knew could potentially change a lot.

He was sitting in his Tesla SUV (the very one his friends always teased him about because it was apparently such a "James" car), waiting in the traffic of entering the school. He'd arrived later than usual, which was typically uncharacteristic of him, but he'd been up most of the night mulling over the whole thing. This was of course where the Adderall helped.

He drummed his fingers against his steering wheel and watched students jump out of their parents' cars and run into the school. Parents never respected the drop off spot. _They really needed another entrance_. Today, he didn't mind it though. Mainly because he was thinking over these two very important details, turning them over in his mind again and again.

The first had come on a sun-weathered, July afternoon, on a secluded beach in Southampton, after he and Griffin had gone surfing. They were sitting in the sand, with their wetsuits half peeled off, and cans of beer in Coca Cola sleeves beside them. The beach was emptier than usual, which was how they liked it. Both of them just enjoying one another's company in the peace and quiet of what was always a hectic place. Most of James' best memories in the Hamptons involved Griffin. Stealing food during the adults' parties, surfing in the early mornings, planning careful and calculating pranks, drinking at the polo fields, and going out to the beach at night.

To be fair, most of his best memories in general involved Griffin, but that was not the point.

James ran a hand through his sand ridden hair and took a swig from his can. He wasn't sure what he felt about the taste of salt, sand, and beer combined but he wasn't going to stop drinking now that he'd started. (He wasn't sure Griffin would let him even if he wanted to.)

"I saw Conner today," Griffin said, sipping his beer, "that dickhead."

"Oh," James crinkled his nose, he was pretty sure he had a sunburn developing on the bridge of it. He'd never hear the end of it from his mom.

Griffin put the can to his lips and then seemed to mull over something before speaking again, "he and Nik' are fighting again." He gave James a passing but meaningful look, like he knew what James had not told him. His look, James guessed, was alluding to the night that James and Nikki had almost...well, it didn't matter because that was all over now. They'd ended it.

"Better him than me," James said shrugging. He examined his shoulder for any significant burns, he was so impatient with caring for them but also too impatient to reapply sunscreen, so it was a double-edged sword really.

"If that's what you want us to pretend, then yeah, sure."

James let out a sharp breath but didn't attempt to say anything further to Griffin about the subject. Griffin was incessant with that, and James didn't want to get into it with him.

James chugged the rest of his beer, crushed the can with his hand and pushed it into the sand (he'd put it in the recycling bin before they left, he always did...one day he'd leave it in the dirt...maybe...probably not, that just wasn't his style).

He thought about Nikki and Conner for a moment, about how maybe they were a good couple and Nikki just needed to see it. He quickly decided that it didn't matter to him regardless. He'd done nothing wrong, had broken no moral code. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "you think Abby's gonna be at Derrick's thing tonight?"

Griffin snorted and said in that slow, fixed voice, "the fuck would I know...why, you wanna hook up with her?"

James shrugged and pulled his knees up, balancing his arms on them, "she'll probably come if Isobel comes." Griffin gave him a confused look that asked for an elaboration, Griffin couldn't be bothered to actually say the words, "cause they're friends…I think."

"They don't even go to the same school," Griffin ran his knuckles across his jaw and then turned to James, "or do they? I don't remember."

James laughed, "you're the worst."

Griffin grinned wickedly, "I sure as hell don't keep track."

"You don't know where Isobel goes to school? Like White Plains or Westchester?"

"I don't talk to Isobel." James raised an eyebrow at Griffin who then explained, "we hooked up a couple times. Now she's telling everyone we're together or some stupid shit like that."

He sounded peeved.

James knitted his brows together. This was kind of _something_. Griffin dusted the sand off his arm before going back to finishing his beer, while James stared at him with curiosity. Griffin never cared to listen to the rumors about himself, let alone let them bother him. Every girl Griffin had so much as looked at was in the business of starting rumors about them dating or falling in love or something or the other. Griffin never let it faze him. Griffin didn't even care enough to correct them. He thought they were funny.

"Who's the new girl?" James asked, smirking. Everyone would say they knew Griffin best, but everyone would be lying. It was always James.

Griffin looked up at him, an uncontainable, small smile on his face, "don't worry about it."

That's how James knew there _was_ a girl. It was also how he knew this girl was different. someone that Griffin maybe actually liked - loved even - someone who meant something to him enough that he wanted to keep it secret. Something just for Griffin, for whoever the girl was, and not for the wandering eyes of anyone else. James respected the notion enough to let sleeping dogs lie. Maybe he'd take a page from Griffin's book when it came to his next relationship.

That night when James was in the middle of a mind-numbingly boring conversation with Abby Boyd, wondering how on earth someone could go 16 years and still be so one-dimensional, that he realized who the girl was.

He noticed it when Griffin left his side to get a Hennessy and Coke and came back with a vodka mixed with raspberry, sparkling lemonade. Nikki's favorite. She only ever brought one bottle of the lemonade because she hated sharing it and there was only one place in the Hamptons you could get it, but Nikki and Conner were fighting in the poolhouse. More importantly, James knew what others didn't, a small but helpful fact, it was Nikki's favorite because someone had shown it to her.

That's how James knew the girl in question was Kristen.

Careful observation over the following days only confirmed this.

The second thing was a bit more... _complicated_ …

He knew, well he was 90% sure, that Griffin was not in fact dead.

The night after it had all happened, James had opened his phone and looked for Griffin's location. James wasn't even relieved. not even surprised. It was more that he'd thought, _oh, cool_. He had screenshotted it because knowing Griffin, his location, which was inching to the tip of the Hamptons, would be gone by morning.

It helped that the only person Griffin shared his location with was James. It was their mutual acknowledgement of trust. Griffin hadn't explicitly told James he was going to share it. He'd in fact told the rest of them he wasn't in the business of sharing his location and if they had any interest in finding him, they could just ask, he didn't care enough to lie. Then one morning, sophomore year, James had just opened their texts to see it: _Griffin Hastings started sharing location with you._ He didn't make a comment about it, he acknowledged it, and went about his day. Neither of them mentioning it.

This had obviously come in handy for when he was looking at that very location the night of Griffin's disappearance. Maybe that's why Griffin had shared it in the first place, because he was anticipating that very moment. Regardless, it was helpful.

However, just as James had suspected, when he'd gone back to look again later, Griffin's icon was gone and their message transcript simply said: _Griffin Hastings stopped sharing location with you._ Once again, there was no surprise, no further curiosity. James had just locked his phone and kept his mouth shut.

When he'd received the email about the phone being found, he'd been partially confused. Then upset. Then angry, and then perfectly fine. He assumed it was all an elaborate Griffin ordeal. If Griffin was leaving, he had a reason, and he had a plan. James was still 89% convinced the whole thing was a concoction of Griffin's own making. No one ever gave him enough credit for his cunning, they always forgot how smart Griffin could be.

James had kept both of these findings to himself. Under lock and key. Tucked away for no one to ever find out because he owed his allegiance to Griffin first and foremost, and to everyone else much, _much_ after.

Which then led him to finding out exactly what Derrick and Cam were doing that Thursday night the email had gone out. The two little dots **DH** and **CF** on his Find My Friends traveling through the Westchester woods.

 _Funny how things work_ , James thought, just as he pulled into one of the student parking spots.

He tucked the two away in his mind for later. Maybe he'd revisit these little details on a later date. Maybe.

* * *

 _January 2016._

Griffin was sitting so lazily on the back bumper of Derrick's Audi R8 (that he loved so much he barely let anyone look at it), that he should have fallen off from the lack of effort of holding his own body weight up. They were loitering in the parking lot of Nino's. Derrick and Kemp were chasing each other, half-drunkenly, with Nino's Burgers crowns on. Nikki and Dylan were leaning against Dylan's (well, Merri-Lee's) cherry red, BMW, having a conversation that seemed of no importance to either of them. Claire had recently jumped into the backseat of Danny Robbins' family car, cozying up to Landon and disappearing into the night.

Kemp, Derrick, and Dylan were the only ones bold enough to drive without licenses. The rest of them, Griffin aside, were actually following the law. Derrick had received his car as a gift, which seemed almost like a punishment since he wasn't legally allowed to drive it - but Massie kept that to herself. The Westchester police wouldn't say anything though, and their parents would never notice.

Standing next to Griffin was James who had his arms crossed over his chest and was whispering something that sounded bravely like scolding. It was a funny sight. James in his navy blue sweater, glasses glinting, watch wound, speaking to Griffin who looked like he was barely listening. It was all very parental.

Their entire conversation was being held without much eye contact, both of their stares were glued to Kemp and Derrick.

Massie approached them, picking her milkshake up from the hood of Derrick's car. They didn't even seem to notice her. She made her way to Kemp's car and stood there, her ears still peaked at the sound of James' voice carrying over.

She glanced over at Dylan and Nikki who spared her nothing in return. They looked so comfortable there, like they belonged in this world, and sometimes, when Massie was feeling a little too truthful, she wished she did too. Without Alicia there, she felt kind of naked, and bare, and alone in all of this.

James' voice caught her attention when he raised it a notch higher.

"-it's stupid, is all." James chided, "you do a lot of stupid shit, might I add."

"So I've heard," Griffin responded in a bored tone. "But please, do continue. I love it when you talk dirty to me."

James let out a strangled sigh, leaning back against the car, before realizing this was not something Derrick liked, and stood back up. He was always following the rules of making sure everyone (well, mostly everyone) was being respected.

"You just don't think...ever," James tightened his crossed arms and kept his eyes steady on Derrick and Kemp running around.

"You've never seemed to mind," Griffin responded, and his response struck Massie because he seemed almost, if even a sliver, disappointed that James was upset with him. It sounded nearly childlike. Nearly.

"I mind when you're careless," James huffed, "if you die, that would really be-"

"A bitch," Griffin grinned.

Griffin tilted his head, ever so slightly, just to catch the look on James' face. James sighed again but he looked half-amused. This seemed to ease Griffin in some capacity because his sharp shoulders drooped more and the muscles in his back had returned to being taut with a lionlike ferocity. He looked back at the two boys in front of them again.

"Whatever," James stated, he looked over at Dylan and Nikki, a sweeping but meaningful gaze. "But if it happens again, I'm not getting you out of it."

"You always say that," Griffin produced a lighter from his pocket and flicked it off and on. His tone was distracted and uninterested as always.

James snatched the lighter from Griffin, "yeah, and this time I mean it."

"No, you don't." Griffin replied casually, he wasn't looking for a response and James didn't give him one.

He slid out a second lighter and continued his process of turning it off and on.

Massie watched them still as they both continued wordlessly. A lot of their interactions happened without words. She'd observed it all the times she was hanging out with Derrick and they'd appear. Or when she'd spot them across the room at a party. It felt like they all had this ability to interact with just their eyes, but a lot of it was in pairs. Like Derrick and Cam, or Kemp and Chris, or Nikki and Kristen. Alicia was her best friend, but she wondered what kind of wicked behavior led to this ability to communicate with no words. Seemed like the type of thing you sold your soul for.

Derrick had only recently been really bringing her around his friends and this close proximity to an unguarded Griffin Hastings was making her extremely nervous.

"Massie," James said without even looking at her, and she startled. "Why are you standing by yourself?" He turned his head toward her and smiled that easy, brazen grin that knocked the breath out of a lot of people. This was immediately followed by the watchful stare of Griffin's grey eyes, which had the ability to do almost the same thing but for many different reasons.

"I was just watching these two," Massie gestured her chin toward Derrick and Kemp who were now doubled over laughing, stuffing their faces with fries, sitting in the middle of the parking lot, legs splayed out before them. Carefree and happy in the early January night, as if the biting cold couldn't touch them.

"Quite the show," Griffin responded in his usual, sedated voice, always without any trace of real emotion. She found this steady timbre enviable and his voice, crackling with its own deepness, so hard to tear your ears away from. He could commandeer an entire room with a murmur.

Massie felt her throat knot up and walked slowly toward them, wrapping her jacket tightly around her middle. Griffin wouldn't raise his voice, she would have to go over. James seemed inviting enough, which was a nice balancing act between the two. Kendra had once described them as a kind dog owner and a ferocious pitbull, but the dog was the one walking the human, and the owner never seemed to mind.

Massie didn't have much to respond with, so she gave Griffin a half-hearted smile and took a large slurp of her strawberry milkshake. He looked at her like he was appraising property, or so it felt...you could never tell with Griffin, and then turned away when she was so close that he would have to crane his neck to see her. He was not about putting in too much effort.

She took this moment to covertly examine Griffin at this close an arm's distance. He was just as full of vigor and power as from afar, if not more so. He was crackling with life. Like he was an all powerful CEO of some big conglomerate who had no time to waste and yet all the time in the world.

Griffin was tall and slender, he was the same height as Kemp and Derrick, yet seemed so much taller and eons older by the look of his eyes. His hair was always neatly trimmed or buzzed depending on the season, and his mouth was still, a blank slate that was unreadable. His eyes were full of expression, but one that you'd have to know him to understand (she was not fluent in the language of his eyes but it seemed people like Derrick were). They were bold greys, swirling with chaotic energy and a type of mischief that seemed archaic. The rest of his features were sharp and exact, undeniably handsome but in a cutting way. His shoulders were broad, and steady like a soldier at war, but his movement was always swift and calculated like a feline, which was made odder by the fact that all of his qualities combined made him look sharklike instead.

He had that look about him like he could smell blood and fear.

When Massie had first seen him up-close she had felt this awe overcome her. It was like she was approaching some work of art, the alarms and the glass protections down...and it was _something_.

"I feel like I'm at one of my siblings' playdates," James muttered more to himself than anyone else but then turned back to Massie. Where Griffin's voice was unwavering and rumbled from a depth beyond him, James' was honey-roasted and sizzled with warmth. He could probably lead you to die with that voice, and have you thank him. Even the meanest of things he said, came out like a sincere compliment with the pure cadence of his tone. "Sorry if we're boring you."

There was a twinkle in his eye like he knew Massie had been listening earlier and like he knew that she hadn't heard enough to feed her curious appetite. That was the thing she appreciated the most about James, he was more than what he seemed, he was so incredibly layered, yet impossibly polite.

"No, no," Massie shrugged, "it's really entertaining watching you, watch them."

James cracked another smile, "we still haven't figured out the purpose of those two," James looked over at Dylan and Nikki who were poured over Dylan's phone and giggling.

"I think it's perfectly clear," Griffin stated, lacing his fingers together behind his head, "they're the laugh track."

Massie genuinely chuckled and Griffin looked at her.

"You made Leadership," Griffin commented comfortably, as if this statement was as normal as mentioning the weather.

"Yeah," Massie replied, tucking her hair behind her ear, "you did too."

"I know," Griffin seemed to find this funny.

James looked at him with a look of thinly veiled disapproval, like a mother would give her child for throwing a fit at a grocery store or for repeating the word 'fuck' at a family reunion. Griffin dropped the look from his face, until his face was blank again, and his expression was once again indiscernible to her.

Massie was unsure why this was funny to begin with but she felt that she knew. It was a rock in her stomach to think about it. It was unusual for someone who wasn't really a Westchester legacy to get a position on Leadership. The thing he found funny was probably that she'd even mentioned he'd made it, added with the fact that she'd gotten the position at all.

People didn't just up and come in Westchester. You were either born to be part of the inner circle or rich enough to not care. Massie came into Westchester late in the game and she was somehow winning at it. Other people envied her for it, she was whispered about in the halls, and people wanted to dress like her and act like her. This group though? Griffin's circle? They didn't know what to think of her. Like some type of odd cousin in their family, who appeared out of nowhere, and who they didn't know what to do with.

Griffin, she'd always thought, was her chance out of that. She didn't really care, she only was there for Derrick because she liked him as him, but of course she'd harbored thoughts about what it would be like to be accepted. What it would be like to not feel like she had to lurk close by instead of with all of them.

Out of all of them, Josh was probably her favorite, and she wished badly that he hadn't stayed in to do homework. Kristen and Josh were thick as thieves, when Nikki wasn't occupying Kristen's attention. Kristen and Josh would pair off into the corner and talk about things that made Massie wonder what could bring quiet Kristen and tired Josh out of their shells. She liked them, they seemed a bit odder than the rest, yet still a lot saner. She could have been okay just befriending them but Griffin was still the key to getting out.

"Leadership should be fun," James stated, uncrossing his arms and placing them in his pockets, "my sister still talks about it."

Griffin scoffed, grimacing, "I can't stand the thought of having class with Fawn."

"Maybe she can contain your behavior," James shot. Griffin looked at him and James beamed back teasingly, Griffin coughed back a laugh. Another conversation that somehow didn't include her even though on the surface it had.

"She'll probably drop out senior year," Griffin said to James. "If we're lucky."

"Can't you not join as a senior?" Massie asked, tentatively. She was scared that Griffin wouldn't respond to her or would find her question somehow annoying.

Instead he surprised her.

With that same steady voice, he politely responded, "no, you do first semester senior year and then freshmen replace you second semester. Like we did."

This was the most Griffin had ever said to her, and also the most she'd heard him speak in a single sentence. She somehow felt herself blushing from the attention. He looked to James briefly for approval of the answer and James gave him an almost undetectable nod. Massie wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been studying them for so long.

"Oh, that's cool."

"A lot of people drop out senior year. One semester isn't worth it for them," James said. Massie was aware this was just filler conversation and James was being his usual polite self. She wondered if he would have continued lecturing Griffin earlier, had she not been standing so close by.

"Are you two done yet?" Nikki called out to Kemp and Derrick.

"Yeah," Derrick replied, stumbling as he got up. He lifted Kemp up with him and Kemp reached over to wipe Nino's secret sauce from dribbling down Derrick's chin.

"I wasn't," Griffin said, getting up from his perch on Derrick's car.

Derrick cackled as if this was simply hilarious and slapped Griffin on the back. Derrick reeked of tequila. He took off his paper crown and placed it on Griffin's head. Griffin steadied Derrick, passed him off to James, and then looked over to Massie.

Derrick jostled beside him.

The crown floated to the floor.

"Massie and I were just getting acquainted," Griffin said and Massie raised her eyebrows. "Weren't we?"

"Yeah," Massie said and just as Griffin was turning away, losing interest with her bland answer, she added, "Leadership and shit talking you, Derrick. It's growing to be quite the acquaintance."

Griffin smiled sharply at her, as if part of him now trusted her and saw something in her that he hadn't before. Massie felt a soaring sensation. She was a step closer.

(To what she was closer to, she found out only a couple months later. She regretted wanting to be part of it at all, but that was for later.)

* * *

Just because Chris Plovert was not as openly wallowing as the rest of his friends, did not mean he never liked Griffin. He wished people would stop gossiping. It was pitiful.

In fact, Chris had liked Griffin a whole lot. At one point, Griffin had been Chris' first real crush, well, the first crush he'd actually allowed himself to fully accept. It had been in the seventh grade. Griffin had to have known too. Chris was sure that everyone knew. It had been hilariously obvious. He hung onto every word Griffin said more than anyone else, which was truly saying something. But Griffin had never said a word about it. Never made Chris feel uncomfortable for it like so many other seventh grade boys would have.

Griffin had even been the first person Chris officially came out to. It had been in a canoe at the lake, the summer before high school.

(Chris had _obviously_ done all the rowing.)

Griffin had newly discovered cigarettes and had wanted Chris to row as far away from the rest of the crowd as possible, so he could light one up.

Chris found this to be the perfect opportunity.

He had let it out so easily, the words glided out of his mouth before he could even stop himself. That he was gay. Had been gay. Would always be gay. (Then in some sort of false confidence because yes, even proud Chris could feel a little insecure, he'd said, he didn't care what anyone thought, didn't care if no one accepted him. He'd said, "This is who I am and I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks." It felt like a relief to say it. Like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He was still the same person but now _freer_.)

Griffin had been laying across the length of the canoe, body balanced on the seats and head resting against the tip, while the skin of his bare torso glistened in the summer sun. He'd looked golden. He had lifted his head up for this whole avalanche of words, his light eyes slightly squinted, eyebrows dented, as if he were watching a particularly painful, embarrassing moment (at least in Chris' eyes) as Chris, flustered, had spat out his tirade.

But then, in the silence following, Griffin had said one word that made Chris feel utterly, totally relieved, in that steady tone of his, "okay."

And then Griffin had laid his head back down and continued to take long drags of his cigarette.

It was all the approval Chris needed.

But Chris had grown weary of Griffin, kind of. Or well, to be fair, as much as he thought was possible. When Griffin wasn't around, Chris couldn't help but think about all the awful things Griffin was capable of doing. How he'd go radio silent for days. How he'd never come to anything on time and never provided an explanation. How at the same time, he'd disappear in the middle of a party without telling a soul. How this would drive everyone into a fervor - chickens with their heads cut off. How he somehow didn't expect anything from anyone but at the same time expected the world. How Griffin rarely spoke about himself even though it seemed like everything was about Griffin always - leaving it so that no one really knew him at all. How Griffin could make you feel like all the heat had left your body when he didn't like something you'd said or when he didn't laugh at a joke you thought was funny. How he rarely apologized. Or how he'd never really let them in.

But then Chris would see Griffin and it would change, and Chris would go numb in the head again, like all of them. He wouldn't even think about everything he'd thought. All those thoughts just washed away. If he did remember them, he'd feel extremely guilty and would do anything to compensate.

This time was different. The separation was almost calming and Chris felt awful for feeling that way at all. He loved Griffin, so deeply and strongly. It was this thing that was ever-present. The endearment he felt for Griffin was unexplainable, but he knew they all felt it. It was a constant. Something that no matter what, was never wavering. Griffin always came back. That was his best quality. His loyalty was unprecedented. He stood by them all through anything and everything. With others, he'd lose interest, leave them cold, and the fear of that happening alone had been a key cause of anxiety in Chris's life. Now, with Griffin gone, Chris wondered if Griffin would ever have lost interest in them or if had been a threat that had tied them all together, a paranoia that would never have come true.

Regardless, Chris felt light and airy with Griffin gone. There was something about not having to impress anyone at all, about not owing someone your entire being that was relaxing. It even helped with Todd, a lot in fact. Griffin had always been a point of contention with them, but now that wasn't something he really had to worry about for the most part. Didn't have to be careful at how long he laughed at Griffin's jokes in front of Todd, or much he was allowed to touch his friend casually, or how often he was allowed to look over in Griffin's direction. He didn't feel anything anymore but Todd was overly concerned and overly paranoid. Chris didn't blame him. With Griffin gone things were...easier.

Chris knew he was in the minority. He doubted anyone else had even entertained the thought that life PG (Post-Griffin) was better. Maybe it wasn't for them. Maybe it wasn't for him and he just hadn't noticed. You never did notice a bad thing until it was too late.

"You good?" Todd asked, placing a hand on Chris' back.

Chris snapped back into reality and nodded. "Just zoned out."

"You're not sleeping enough," Todd replied.

"I'm getting eight hours a day," Chris said (it was a little but of a lie but Josh was the one with a monopoly on insomnia, at least Chris could find sleep), "I think it's plenty."

Todd looked at him with concern and then pursed his lips, "are you sure?"

Chris laughed, "of course I'm sure." Todd then opened his mouth and closed it, as if he were going to say something but thought better of it. Chris knew him better than that though, he knew all of Todd's tells...whether Todd knew his was something else entirely. "What?"

"Nothing," Todd blinked, "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but you want to."

Todd scratched the back of his ear, "um, well, the whole phone thing...do you want to talk about it?" They had reached a bench under one of the oak trees outside the school and Todd sat down. He gestured for Chris to sit too, but Chris continued to stand, Todd held back a roll of the eyes, Chris could sense it.

"Not particularly. No."

"We have to talk about Griffin sometime," Todd said 'Griffin' in sort of a whisper, like he might awake some sleeping deity if he spoke too loudly. Hades seemed particularly appropriate, Chris thought offhandedly. Griffin _would_ be god of the underworld if given the chance. Sometimes it felt like he already was and Westchester was all the acres of hell. Griffin their unwavering, ruler. Wicked and cruel but always fair. Or so it seemed. "I mean, how are you?"

"I'm fine," Chris shrugged, "they found his phone. So what?"

Todd winced, "did you read the whole article in _The Herald_?"

"I saw the email. I didn't read the article," Chris replied curtly, "I heard it through the grapevine. I don't subscribe to the updates. I have better things to do than read fan accounts about Griffin Hastings. I find them extraordinarily pathetic."

Todd reached out for Chris' hand and tugged on his fingers, beckoning him to sit on the bench. Chris sighed, and gave in, sitting down beside Todd. The sunlight was hitting his face at an angle that brought out the youthful glow in Todd's cheeks, the freckles splayed across his nose, the slight lilt of his mouth. He was a thing to behold, which was a shame because Chris was feeling a sense of misplaced irritation at Todd right at that moment. Todd, who was everything that Griffin wasn't. Patient, kind, full of light, and most importantly, never cruel. Todd, who was too good for Chris.

Todd held Chris' hand in both of his and Chris raised his eyebrows. Todd was acting too careful with him and it was starting to become annoying. He didn't need to be on watch.

"They found blood on the phone," Todd said softly, "they found the phone day-before-yesterday, at night, but didn't release an official report until they tested the blood. It's his."

Chris felt nothing and then all of a sudden he felt everything at once. His blood ran cold. His face somehow still seemed to color, he could feel it, while the rest of him paled. His muscles tightened in his jaw, his arms, his legs. His toes curled up and he felt the hair on his forearms stand up. His mouth was completely dry now. Agape and unmoving. He had nothing to say.

All he saw was Griffin in his mind's eye. His lazy smile. Those bright, grey eyes. The curls of his hair when he let it grow out too much. His presence, quiet but there, still as the night but _there_. Always watching, eyes ablaze with amusement unknown to any of them. That roughish expression on his face, his thoughts swirling with things he'd never speak into existence. His voice, deep and crackling and steady...

Now Chris felt that guilt that always washed over him. Now it hit him like a ton of bricks.

But then...then a new emotion came over Chris. Griffin never let them down in the long run. He wouldn't now.

Chris swallowed, licked his lips, and then looked to Todd, "he probably cracked his screen and cut his hand." Todd blinked in surprise, "or you know what? Better yet," Chris shook his head, feeling stupid he hadn't thought of it before, "he's leaving a false trail. Classic." Chris picked up his backpack, pecked Todd on the cheek and headed into the school leaving Todd sitting alone, speechless.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : I didn't think it would take me 5 months to write this but here we are. I just finished college and was dealing with all of that end of the year bullshit, so this was not a big priority, but now I have more time.

This whole chapter has been in my drafts for months but I always have such a hard time taking all the pieces and putting them together, which is why I split this chapter up into parts. There will be at least 2 more chapters taking place on this same day before we get to the White Party because there's so much that has to be covered before then and so many different characters to follow, which is exciting. There will also be a lot more flashbacks or characters remembering the past (ex. James in this chapter) which will be important for later. Since I already have the next couple chapters done, hopefully it won't take me too long to upload them. Also, in the next chapter we finally get to the issue of Derrick's laptop which will be fun. Andddd there'll be lots of Kemp, Josh, and Chris who are some of my favorites in this story.

Hope everyone's having a great summer and good luck on finals and everything if you're still in school!

P.S. Excuse the spelling/grammar errors, I haven't had the chance to really reread it. And thank you all for your wonderful reviews!


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